


Seal of Fate

by Shadow777997



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: (Also is slightly forgetful and lacking some common sense at his age), (Though he's made several mistakes and is learning from them all), Abusive Vernon Dursley, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Female Harry Potter, Bowtruckles are not to be underestimated, Death is overprotective of his mistress, Death ruin's everyone's plans, F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Good Albus Dumbledore, Good Dudley Dursley, Good Petunia Evans Dursley, Gryffindor Dudley Dursley, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry is a Little Shit, He's a snarky little shit sometimes, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Hufflepuff Hermione Granger, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magical Dudley Dursley, Magically powerful Female Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mentor Severus Snape, Ravenclaw Ron Weasley, Romance isn't touched upon until fourth year at the earliest, Slytherin Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Slytherin Harry Potter, Snape's stash of Fire Whiskey is it's own tag at this point., Though there will be crushes earlier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 80,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow777997/pseuds/Shadow777997
Summary: The only thing going through Tessa's mind as she stared at the girl in front of her, was that this was the LAST time she ever tried convincing Death to find a hobby and to not be such a workaholic. Honestly at this point, she wasn't even sure why the hell she bothered anymore. Death always finds a way to make her regret talking him into some form of vacation or another...
Relationships: Eventual Harry Potter/Pansy Parkinson, Relationships revealed as they develop in the story
Comments: 121
Kudos: 157





	1. Death needs a new Hobby

On the night of Samhain, 1981, the veiled specter of Death journeyed to Godric’s Hollow with the intention of collecting three souls that were meant to meet their end in this life. It was a rare thing for a soul collection to be made by the entity himself, and ordinarily Death wouldn’t hesitate to send one of his many reapers to do the job instead. Tessa would likely be annoyed that he reaped the child instead of allowing her to handle it as was the norm- something about kids being more ‘easily frightened’ of Death’s form then they were with Tessa’s. 

Death would have rolled his eyes at the utter ridiculousness of the matter, if he actually _had_ eyes in this form that was. He needed to have a word with his reaper’s about not getting so attached to the souls they collect.

Then again, tonight’s reaping was hardly normal- how often does a prophesized infant’s soul get collected before the prophecy even happened? Death approached the small cottage that housed the three souls he was scheduled to collect, only to pause in mild shock and more than mild irritation as the reason for these souls' end became all too clear to the primordial entity.

 _Tom Riddle._

The self-proclaimed ‘Dark Lord’ (Death did roll his eyes here as his form shifted into his prefered ‘human’ one instead) had been a thorn in Death’s side for far too many years at this point, and it seemed fate was mocking him yet again in forcing their paths to cross.

“Annoying little protozoa. Were his soul not torn to shreds and stashed across Britain like an irritating treasure hunt, I’d be more than content to reap only his soul tonight.” Death muttered to himself before entering the small house, only to paused in slight surprise at the scene in front of him.

James Potter, dead on the floor. This wasn’t what caused the ancient being to experience the rare moment of mild shock however; Rather, it was the fact that the man’s soul had already been _removed_. 

_‘So. Tom’s found yet another_ **_pet_ ** _to do his bidding. I’ll need to have a word with the bratty child about who he lends his playthings to. Last I checked that infernal cage is meant to keep him in and everything else_ **_out_ ** _, and yet he still manages to interfere.’_

Death proceeded up the stairs to where the other two souls were meant to be, already suspecting what he would find. And it was indeed what he anticipated, with Lily’s soul having been snatched up as well, but- something yet remained- something that proved an even greater shock to Death.

The child, Harriet Potter, yet _lived_.

Death approached the crib that held the now sleeping infant, and with a slight wave of his hand confirmed that she still (somehow) possessed her soul, and _more_.

“Well now, aren’t you a unique little thing.” Death muttered in mild amusement. “For once, a prophecy may actually have a grain of truth to it. You really do have the power to destroy that foolish little wizard, don’t you?” The child, obviously, didn’t respond in any way to Death’s words, likely dreaming happily while blissfully unaware of the destruction that took place tonight.

Tom Riddle had, in accidentally creating the world’s first living Horcrux, also unknowingly created the very thing that had the ability to destroy him. For the first time in centuries, Death smirked at the irony, only for it to fall into a small frown a second later.

“And that meddling fool of a headmaster would see you destroyed after turning you into his little weapon, wouldn’t he?” He mused before clicking his tongue lightly. “Well, I suppose if you’re meant to stay here for now, you might as well have control over your own life. Perhaps it’ll even be amusing, what choices you end up making for yourself with your new freedom.” With that said, Death waved his hand slightly over the sleeping infant as a small circular mark appeared on her left palm.

A mark, with a very specific symbol in it’s center. One that only the girl and Death himself would be able to see, and that would link the youngest Potter in a way that few humans could claim to have been to Death. After all, it’d been centuries since the last master had vanished, and Tessa would argue happily that it was time for another to take their place and keep Death from getting too bored. 

_‘Don’t need another flood or for some random sheep farmer to go building a boat again. You need more hobbies’_ had been her argument the last time Death had argued about ‘needing’ someone to become his master. 

Death would have argued against needing a ‘hobby’ when he had his job to do, but the reminder of his reaper’s managing the task during the few centuries long _‘vacation’_ he’d been forced into spending six hundred feet underground proved Tessa’s point that the souls would still be managed without his direct supervision for a few decades at least.

“Let’s just hope Dumbledore has enough common sense to put a newly orphaned and highly impressionable infant in a decent home…” Death muttered to himself before vanishing as several other humans started arriving at the barely intact cottage.

Barely an hour would pass before Death found that his thinly held hope was stomped out. Honestly, it was probably a new record for a mortal managing to do so in such a short time- no, wait, there _was_ that time where a certain pair of brother's, a drunken bet on their part, and barely ten minutes passing before both ended up dead (A story for another time really).

But this particular fiasco _easily_ took second place for the amount of time it took someone to kill any hope Death had towards them.

In Death's opinion, a decent home to place a newly orphaned magical child was with (in good common sense) another, closely related, _wizarding_ family, and not with say- a couple of magic-hating muggles!

And Tessa had the gall to question why he had little faith in the competency of humans.

Death watched as the, likely senile to hell and back, headmaster placed the small bundle containing the savior of the wizarding world outside the front door of the most mundane and irritatingly dull muggle neighborhood that Death had seen in centuries before disapparating alongside the sobbing form of the groundskeeper and visibly irate deputy headmistress.

 _'Well, this won't do at all. Cast aside in the cold world with barely a clue to who you are in it all.'_ Death mused to himself as he stood over the sleeping infant before sighing under his breath and ringing the doorbell to the small house. 

"Really, the least he could have done was alert her new guardians to the fact that their year old niece is currently sitting upon their doorstep in the middle of November. I'll be impressed if Dumbledore doesn't end up accidentally killing the girl before she even gets to Hogwarts." Death muttered to himself before vanishing back into the shadows as a light flickered on from inside of the house and the door opened.

What happened next would go on to create two very different timelines based upon one very specific veritable.

In one, the man named Vernon Dursley is the one to pull open the door after just managing to fall asleep on the couch after a night of drinking merrily at his recent promotion at work. In that timeline, the quick realization of his wife's freakish niece sitting in front of him posing the risk of shattering the carefully cultivated facade of normalcy that was his family's life drove Vernon to pack of the infant and cast her aside at the local Orphanage. An Orphanage that at one point, more than half a century ago played it's role as a home for a very different, yet eerily similar orphan by the name of Tom Riddle. That particular timeline unwinds itself into a very dark future from the perspective of a bitter and spiteful Harriet Potter who longed only to see the world around her go up in flames for the suffering it inflicted upon her her.

Fortunately, that timeline died the moment the crucial veritable of who opens the front door changed from Vernon Dursley, to instead his wife Petunia. What could possibly be so different between the two to cause entirely divided timelines to form around them? Simple really- unlike her husband, and in fact so many alternate versions of herself in various other timelines that have passed in various universes, Petunia Dursley nee Evans possessed enough common sense in herself to recognize that an infant is hardly to blame for her sister's death (nor the hatred that such undue blame would have bred over the years). It's this small change from her husband that ensured a sufficient enough change for an individual timeline to be formed around it.

Unfortunately, that does not mean a necessarily 'happy' childhood for one Harriet Potter. The actions of Vernon Dursley nearly universally make sure such happiness is almost never allowed to take root. Little did anyone that night know however, that Death himself would be there to catch ever moment of injustice and suffering his new master would have to endure. Nor that when the time came, he would gladly serve the role of executioner of those most guilty. Afterall, where was the fun of being called the master of death if you couldn't boss the thing itself around like a grumpy, near-omnipotent, guard dog?


	2. A Surprising Letter

A single green eye stared out from behind a tangled mess of firey red hair at the person in front of them as the girl it belonged to considered weather or not murder was a reasonable response.

_ ‘Probably not. The overgrown man-child would throw a fit over it. Plus Dudley still apparently has at least 40 more years minimum left in his book before Death has the jurisdiction to reap him.’  _ Harriet mused to herself as Dudley opened his mouth to yet again argue the same point they’d been going back and forth over for the last  _ ten minutes. _

“You may be smarter and usually right about most things Harriet, but you're wrong about this.” Dudley argued, even as his cousin rolled her eye for the seventh time in ten minutes.

“I’m not arguing about something this dumb anymore. Pineapple does not belong on pizza, end of story. It’s an abomination that should be burned from the history books as ever existing.” Dudley blinked wearily at Harriet’s slightly dramatic opinion.

“You make me fear for your sanity sometimes Harriet. Seriously, what did pineapple ever do to offend you enough to deserve being erased from history? It’s a bloody fruit.” Harriet opened her mouth for what was surely about to be yet  _ another _ extension to their argument when a voice interrupted her.

“Dudley! Come inside, you’ve got mail that’s just arrived. Probably a birthday letter from Aunt Marge!” Aunt Petunia called from the backdoor. Harriet flinched slightly at the mention of her least favorite relative besides her Uncle Vernon as she watched Dudley head towards the house. 

Harriet was more than happy knowing she’d never have to see either people again. That happiness also happened to extend to the devil-like beast of a dog that Aunt Marge had liked to bring along to any past visits to their old house- nope. Harriet firmly slammed the mental door shut on that train of thought before it could go any further, though judging from the slight aching twinge of pain around her left eye, she’d not been quite as quick as she could have been.

“What have I told you about revising those memories? Do I need to put a wall around them again?” A slightly chastising voice spoke from behind her. Most people would have been scared shitless by said sudden voice appearing out of nowhere, but Harriet was used to it enough by this point that her only response was to roll her functional eye that could still actually roll.

“And what have I told you about popping into existence behind people randomly like some lunatic?” Harriet tossed back at the slightly too thin man that stood next to her as she turned slightly to look at him. “No need to act like a hypocrite, Death.”

Death just rolled his eyes slightly before ignoring Harriet’s statement and giving her a pointed look. “You have the look of mild discomfort that always shows up when  _ that’s _ giving you trouble. I thought you said the pain finally left a few weeks ago?”

Harriet had to fight the urge to roll her eye again. “It’s a little hard not to have at least some lingering discomfort when there’s a rock shoved in my eye socket and magically integrated into the mangled remains of my optic nerve. Should have just called up a demon to fix it instead, at least I can haggle with them.” She muttered the last part under her breath as Death just raised a brow slightly.

“As if any demon would make a deal with you. The last one who thought he could cheat you ended up a withered husk and the rest of the lot are still weary of you for it. Crowley still hasn’t forgiven you for that by the way.”

Harriet glared at the primordial being. “Well you can tell the dramatic git that he needs to learn how to let a fucking grudge for! It’s been six bloody months! And besides, who’s the one that taught me that trick in the first place?!” 

“My meddling brat of a sister, so don’t even think of blaming me.” Death reminded her. Harriet blinked owlishly.

“Oh. Right, forgot about that technicality. You just showed me pointers for getting the hang of it faster.” Harriet muttered as Death snorted in amusement.

“Perhaps don’t tell her you forgot she was your teacher after her warden refused to have anything to do with you after that contest.” 

Harriet pouted slightly. “Not my fault he’s a sore loser who can’t keep up with a ten year old little girl.” The pout quickly turned into a slightly worried look. “Also never tell your sister I forgot she was the one who taught me that trick. No way in hell I’m dealing with her silent treatment on top of likely having to talk to her twin the next time I want to do something behind your back. He’d probably make me read that blasted book again or settle another argument between the angels over Gabriel’s pranks. Again.” 

Suffice it to say the archangel of trickery and pranks was  _ not _ on the list of Harriet’s favorite immortal entities after that incident with the salmon, garden hose, and two week long time loop. 

Death’s slight frown deepened slightly at the mention of their mutually least favorite archangel. “Fair enough. I’ll keep that little fact a secret if only because I despise any involvement with that menace to society as much as you do. My brother needs to learn how to keep a tighter leash around his angels.” He gestured to the small house with a slight nod.

“If I were you, I’d rejoin your aunt and cousin before he finds the last letter in the small pile he’s gotten today. Something tells me that it’ll provide quite the surprise.” Harriet frowned in confusion and was about to open her mouth to question what Death meant when the entity in question vanished the next second. 

“Gods I hate when he does that. Dramatic bastard’s no better than the demons or angels when he says something mysterious. Stupid omnipotent primordials knowing all the little secrets in life.” Harriet muttered under her breath before heading back inside the house. She may as well put an end to at least this small mystery before her natural curiosity started driving her nuts again.

Walking into the kitchen that she could hear her aunt’s increasingly panicked breathing from, Harriet paused at the scene in front of her. 

Aunt Petunia was sitting in one of the chairs around the kitchen table, head in her hands and quietly muttering about ‘past mistakes’ and ‘hypocrisy’ and what Harriet was pretty sure were a few muttered curses directed towards a ‘temperamental pig’. 

_ ‘Uncle Vernon’s then. Wonder how he’s involved in this.’ _

Glancing over at the other occupied chair across from Petunia, Harriet noted for the first time that Dudley was sitting staring at an opened letter with a shocked, if slightly confused face. Not exactly the most uncommon expression that the boy could make, but Harriet had to admit that her cousin had been trying to apply himself more in school as of lately. Something about not wanting to be the kind of person his father was content to let him grow into.

“You!” Harriet flinched slightly at the tone her Aunt used upon noticing she had walked into the room. Harriet failed to notice the flash of regret on her aunt’s face however before it was replaced by a weary frown. “Is this some sort of prank? It’s no secret that man from before told you about magic. Is that why Dudley’s gotten one of those bloody letters?”

Harriet blinked in confusion. “What letter? I didn’t send him any letter, especially not for a prank. If I wanted to prank him, I’d tell him the candy store was going out of business or something.” Dudley had a slightly scandalized look at the mere idea of his favorite place to spend his weekly allowance going out of business. The boy’s obsession with sweets was borderline fanatical.

“Then it’s real. My son’s like you.” Aunt Petunia had a look on her face as though someone had told her Dudley was a wanted serial killer rather than having just gotten a strange letter in the mail. Harriet was even more confused when the same looked shifted into one of almost...relief.

“I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world though. Certainly sets him aside as being different from your father at least.” Petunia directed this towards Dudley this time. Harriet was busy connecting the dots in her mind though.

“Wait- you brought up magic, even though you hate the word.” Her eye widened, even as her aunt’s twitched slightly at the offending word. “You mean Dudley’s gotten a letter to Hogwarts? Like that man said I would be getting around a month from now?” 

The man in question being Death, though Harriet figured it was better her relatives thought he was just another wizard and apparent staff member of Hogwarts that was sent to give extra notice about Harriet’s own future attendance to the school of magic in a few months' time. 

“Huh. That explains why that window shattered when Dudley got mad a few months ago.” Harriet muttered. She didn’t much care for any memory of the day her left eye was damaged, hence locking said memories in a box.

“That was Dudley?! This whole time I thought it was your magic defending you.” Petunia seemed regretful of the reminder that said accidental magic, regardless of source, had gotten Harriet grounded for a week after they moved out even if she hadn’t remembered actually causing it. 

_ ‘Turns out I didn’t after all. Figures, Death made sure I had a grip on my magic for years now.’ _

Dudley picked that moment to speak again. “It says here that the De-pu-ty Head-mis-tress sent the letter because Harriet’s been enrolled since she was born. For ef-fi-cien-cy.” He told them, sounding out the larger words slowly. Dudley had never been the strongest reader growing up, and from the sound of it, the letter was far from the easiest piece of literature for an eleven year old to read.

“I suppose it would make sense if they knew all along you had magic like your parents.” Petunia muttered hesitantly.

Harriet nodded. “And I figure it’s best that Dudley learns more about magic from  _ somewhere _ , right? Before more windows get blown up accidentally or something worse happens. Assuming we’re allowed to go at all that is.” Petunia didn’t seem very happy about the idea of sending her son off to a school full of wizards to learn magic.

“Oh you’ll both be going. I’m not about to let my son be at risk of hurting himself because of magic just because I’m not the most fond of the stuff. But you have to make sure nobody at this school picks on Dudley or anything of the sort, understand? Wizards can be rather cruel towards those like him who don’t have parents with magic themselves.” The look on her aunt’s face told Harriet that this was something she’d witnessed personally in the past.

_‘Makes sense if my mum was a witch and could have had friends over when they were growing up. Some of them may not have been the nicest people when it comes to not having magic.’_ She mused privately as Petunia sighed.

“I guess we’ll need to go shopping for your supplies then Dudley. Might as well buy two of what’s on the list since you’re likely to get your own letter in the next few weeks I imagine.” Petunia directed the second half of her statement to Harriet. 

“Looks like a trip to that wizarding alley place your mother always went on a rant about is in order. Fairly sure they have a bank somewhere along the way where I can convert some money into whatever fancy coins wizards use nowadays. Hopefully nothing’s too expensive.” She muttered at the end.

It seemed as though whatever shock had struck Dudley the moment the letter’s contents were revealed had finally started wearing off as the two cousin’s shared excited smiles. A trip to a magic filled alleyway full of shops selling who knew what? Harriet figured no kid their age would be able to not feel excitement at such an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took longer than I expected. It's weird trying to write Petunia and Dudley as decent human beings for once. Anyone's who's read the first chapter but not taken a look in the last few days should do so to note a few changes I've made compared to when that chapter was first posted.


	3. Diagon Alley: Part 1

The morning after Dudley’s surprising letter and the revelation that came with it, saw the small family of three about to take their first (in her and Dudley’s case at least considering Aunt Petunia had known all about magic after growing up with Lily) steps into a new world of magic. 

That is, if Petunia would gather the will to stop glaring at the door to the Leaky Cauldron as though it’s very existence had offended her.

“Wizards really think a dingy old pub is a suitable entrance to their little market?” Petunia muttered under her breath as both children waited for her to move from the spot she’d stood at for the last three minutes. 

“And Lily had the gall to question why I could never find much enjoyment in coming here.” She sighed before seemingly forcing herself to step through the door that Harriet had been holding open while keeping Dudley from wandering off with a firm hand on the neck of his shirt. 

Years of dealing with his excitement in a candy store had taught both of them to keep a firm grip on the boy or risk utter chaos breaking out when that same excitement reared its head.

“The sooner we’re in, the sooner you can lock the memory of the smell of cheap wizarding alcohol in the deepest parts of your memory Aunt Petunia.” Harriet spoke flatly, surprising the woman.

“I would have figured _you_ to be the more unruly one when it came to seeing magic for the first time?” Harriet just shrugged.

“I just plan to keep it bottled up for the most opportune time to benefit from the chaos it will cause others.” Petunia paused a few feet from the bar where an older man seemed to be cleaning a glass from behind it.

“Why does that remind me eerily of something a friend of Lily’s mentioned once when we were kids? ‘Reading the situation and controlling the outcome in your favor’, I think he’d said. Something about it defining the other students in his house at Hogwarts.” Harriet grinned.

“Professor Thane told me about the houses when he showed up to explain more magic and fix this-” She gestured to roughly where the black stone was sitting firmly in her left eye socket, omitting the fact that 'Professor Thane had actually been the embodiment of the entity of Death. 

_'No Need to traumatize anyone with that little fact quite yet.'_

“Apparently every student is sorted into one of four different houses based on their strongest traits and partially their personality. Whatever house my mum’s friend was in sounds like a fun bunch though, maybe that’s where I’ll end up.” Harriet shrugged lightly before snapping her fingers in front of Dudley’s face when the familiar bored look appeared a minute or so into their brief conversation about Hogwarts houses (thus she missed the slightly worried look on her aunt’s face at the idea of Harriet being even slightly similar to the rude boy Lily had called a friend during their childhood).

A minute later, and with Tom (the kind looking barkeep from earlier) explaining how Dudley and Harriet would be able to open the way to Diagon Alley once they had their wands as he demonstrated with his own, the family of three were stepping through the large opening in the formerly solid brick wall.

Harriet couldn’t help but feel excitement bubble in her stomach as she and Dudley took in all of the displays of magic around them. She also couldn’t help the small snort of amusement at the look of distaste on her aunt’s face as the woman took in the apparent sense of fashion that most of the current wizarding population were wearing. 

“If this is what dad always called being freakish looks like, I’m finding it hard to care.” Dudley whispered in awe as he spotted a stand that advertised ‘Fire-Breathing Tibeten Chickens’- something that left Harriet seriously questioning the sanity of Tibet’s wizarding population at the moment.

“Don’t say that Dudley!” Petunia bit out in a tone that surprised both children. “I may not be the biggest fan of magic, but it most certainly isn’t something freakish.” Dudley looked thoroughly chastened at his mother’s words as Harriet caught a brief flash of an emotion across her aunt’s face. 

(It wouldn’t be until over a year had passed that she’d learn it was a flash of bitter regret that day).

“Let’s just get to the bank and get some money converted so we can get this trip over as quickly as possible.” Petunia muttered under her breath before guiding the three of them towards the enormous white marble building that was Gringotts.

The resulting ten minutes of waiting in line and for the goblin (that Harriet thought were bloody neat to be in charge of an entire country’s money) in charge of the ‘Currency Conversion Teller’ - as denoted by the sign engraved above the small corner que - and they finally left with a small sack full of galleons. 

“After hearing about how the goblins could apparently be rather viscous from your father, the one time I actually spoke to him in person that is, I was expecting that part of the trip to be more uncomfortable.” Petunia spoke quietly from beside Harriet while keeping an eye out for Dudley possibly wandering off.

Harriet nodded in agreement. “Honestly, I expected the same when I realized goblins were the ones running it all. They’re always mentioned as being rude or cruel in any fantasy books, but the one in charge of the cue seemed more bored then ready to boil us alive or something. Mixed with a bit of impatience, though if I had to sit through dealing with a bunch of people ordering me around to deal with their money, I’d probably have little patience either.”

Petunia frowned slightly. “It’s more than a little worrying that you’ve picked up on reading other people so well at the age of ten.” Harriet shrugged slightly.

“Uncle Vernon wasn’t really the sort of person that it’d be smart not to learn how to read.” Petunia’s frown deepened at the reminder of her former husband’s abusive attitude before trying to subtly turn both children’s attention away from the subject. The past was better left in the past as they say.

“Let’s see where our first stop should be, shall we?” Pulling out the list of supplies from her purse, Petunia pursed her lips together slightly in thought as she read over it, before nodding slightly.

“Alright, seems like the books might have to be last, since there’s a good couple of them needed for the different classes- and you most certainly _will_ be reading them over the summer young man, don’t give me that look.” She stated pointedly to Dudley who looked ready to complain.

“Hogwarts, from how Lily described it over the years, has several classes that can be dangerous if you’re not prepared. I’ll not be sending either of you two to a school full of magic only to get a letter in the first week telling me you’ve gone and blown yourselves up in potions class just because you didn’t bother reading up on proper safety.” That seemed to knock into Dudley’s slightly thick skull that magic wasn’t something he should take lightly. Harriet grinned.

“She’s got a point you know Dudley- Fire-breathing Tibetan Chickens don’t really seem like something that you should mess with idly. I’d rather not have to bring you home as ashes in a snuff box or something. Aunt Petunia would kill me!” Dudley glared at her.

“Well good to know that if I get killed at this crazy school, your priorities are in order.” 

Harriet just smiled cheekily. “Exactly! One of us has to not be thinking about candy and junk food all the time.” That earned her a light swat on the back of the head from an exasperated Petunia as she rolled her eyes at Harriet’s pout.

“I’m not having you two bicker back and forth all day or I’ll leave you behind so help me. Maybe see if the goblins are accepting trainees or something over the summer.” Dudley seemed to shrink back slightly at the threat- he’d not been the biggest fan of the goblins between the pointed teeth and impatient attitude. Harriet giggled lightly.

“Opportunity to learn about money and access to controlling all of wizarding Britain’s supply of the stuff? Sign me up.” Petunia seemed to quickly realize just how dangerous that idea would be in reality.

“On second thought I’ll just leave you at the potions shop instead- no, Harriet swinging around a knife all day probably isn’t the best idea either. Potions class is going to be what I’m most worried about in your case, I can feel it all ready. God I hate how hard it is to come up with a punishment for you when you’re being a cheeky brat. You turn everything around in a way that always leaves me wondering if Britain will still be standing after a day. Dudley I can just take his computer for an hour and he’ll be doing chores in an instant to get it back. Why can’t that work for you?” 

Harriet shrugged. “Because I don’t spend all day inside like he does and am not training to be a vampire?” 

Dudley was back to glaring. “Well not everyone has to like spending all their time outside like you do talking to a bunch of snakes.” He muttered. 

“Which reminds me that we need to look into how exactly you can do that. Somehow I find it hard to believe that just anyone can talk to reptiles and have them actually talk back.” Petunia spoke quietly.

It’d been rather strange one afternoon a few weeks ago when Harriet and Dudley had stumbled onto a small nest of newly hatched garden snakes tucked under her aunt’s roses after Petunia had sent both of them outside for ‘Dudley to get some fresh air’ and for Harriet to ‘make sure he doesn’t make a mess of the garden’. The strange part of the afternoon had been when Harriet had jokingly said hello to the small snakes, only for them to actually _return the greeting_.

It didn’t take long for the family of three to come to an agreement about keeping Harriet’s slightly odd bilingual abilities quiet. Harriet herself thought it was an interesting ability to have, if it wasn’t for the fact that garden snakes were rather dull conversationalists overall.

Harriet noticed a small shop with a window full of different trunks and pointed towards it. “Why not start there so we each have somewhere to actually store everything as we go? Seems as good a starting point as any.” Petunia nodded once with a slight frown on her face upon taking in the price tags for the window trunks.

“Let’s just hope they have a few less expensive ones. We only have about 30 of those, what were they? Gallons? To spend today and we have to spend right now and I’d rather not have to make a second trip to that bank in one day.”

“Galleons, Aunt Petunia. Wizards have weird names for money and even weirder conversion rates. One of those buggers is like five pounds isn’t it?” Petunia nodded.

“Hopefully not everything is expensive enough to cost several _galleons_ .” Ten minutes of browsing through the store's less expensive selection of school trunks, and the small family were walking out with their two purchases. Harriet had immediately found a simple charcoal black trunk for only a few galleons- relatively cheap compared to the heavily enchanted fancier trunks that ranged in the several _hundred_ galleon range.

The remaining nine minutes in the shop after Harriet had secured her purchase was spent with Petunia trying to get Dudley to pick whichever color he preferred. Harriet honestly couldn’t see how a choice between ‘honey yellow’ and ‘rusted red’ could take so bloody long, but she occupied herself with peering out the front window and trying to figure out which store would make the most sense to visit next.

Harriet’s eyes landed on the sign for Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions and figured getting their school robes next made sense. Something cushioning to line their trunks for when they get to the more fragile items on the list.

Petunia clearly noticed where her niece’s attention was and rolled her eyes fondly. “I already figured we’d go get both of your robes sorted out next. But we’ll be doing so at the secondhand robes shop I spotted before we came here. With any luck it’ll be a light enough change that we can spare a bit of money on something after the mandatory supplies are dealt with.” Harriet nodded in understanding.

“Fair enough. Brand new clothes just have a fancier smell to them to slap a higher price tag on it all. The secondhand stuff is kind enough to not murder a bank account in the process.” After years of wearing secondhand clothes, Harriet was more than comfortable wearing them as opposed to buying any clothes fresh off the line- er, wand as may be the case.

 _‘Fairly sure I saw a worker at Malkin’s waving their wand to take measurements. Wizards are kinda lazy aren’t they?’_ Harriet mused as they finally left the trunk store after Dudley made up his mind and went with the rusted red colored trunk.

Dudley would come to regret this however, when an hour and a half later they were still standing in the second hand robes shop that, as it turned out much to Harriet and Petunia’s joy, doubled as a second hand thrift shop that catered to selling various sewing supplies and such. 

Dudley considered the mystery behind why his aunt and cousin spent so much time fixated on their shared hoby as one of the greater ones that the world may never fully figure out.

“If you two spend much more on fabric and knitting supplies, we’re going to need to make that second trip to the bank after all.” He tried stating the obvious in a hope that it would draw his family’s attention away from the (in his opinion) evil store- only to get a hissed ‘hush Dudley’ from his mum and a rather firm glare from his cousin for his troubles.

“I know your pain.” A voice spoke up from beside him, causing Dudley to jump in shock before turning his attention to the boy in front of him.

The boy in question gestured to where Harriet and Petunia were standing in front of the small counter to purchase their rather large pile of clothing supplies before nodding his chin in the direction of a woman with similar hair to the boy’s own platinum blonde. “Mother always drags me along when the mood to knit something strikes her. About the only second hand store she’ll stand shopping at. My father hates these kinds of shops himself, and I quite share the sentiment.” Dudley nodded in understanding.

“It wasn’t that bad when mum was the only one obsessed with this stuff, but lately she’s managed to get my cousin in on it as well.” The blonde grimaced at the apparent idea of two people being so obsessed with clothes before holding out his hand for Dudley to shake.

“I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy.” Dudley returned the greeting.

“Dudley Dursley.” Draco had a strange look on his face at the name.

“I don’t recognize the name Dursley. My family knows just about every Pure-blood and even half-blood family in Britain. Are you a muggleborn?” Draco rolled his eyes slightly at the confused expression on Dudley’s face. “I’ll take that as a yes. Muggleborn is what the wizarding world calls someone born with magic whose parents are both muggles, aka non-magic folk. Half-blood means you’ve got at least some magic blood mixed in, a grandparent or parent usually. Pure-bloods, like my family, have only magical blood in our ancestry. Makes sense?” 

Dudley thought it sounded bloody confusing as hell to keep track of but nodded slightly nonetheless. “Sorta. Bit confusing though if you ask me.” Draco snorted in agreement. “And yeah, both my parents didn’t have any magic so I guess that makes me muggleborn. Gave my mum and cousin quite the shock when I got my acceptance letter.” 

Draco looked confused. “Why would your cousin have been there when you got your letter? Do you all live together or something?” Dudley nodded but was interrupted from saying anymore by the redhead in question.

“Parents died when I was a baby. Aunt and uncle adopted me though, names Harriet if Dudley didn't mention. And unlike my cousin here, as far I can guess based on how you described it, I’m a half-blood since my dad’s family were all wizards and my mum’s were muggles. That’s the term for non-wizards, right?” Draco jumped in shock at Harriet appearing behind him all of a sudden.

“ _Bloody hell!_ How did you- I just saw you standing ten feet in front of us! How’d you get behind me?!” He exclaimed, much to Harriet’s amusement as Dudley sighed in exasperation.

“Might as well get used to that since we're all starting Hogwarts this year. Harriet’s like a bloody ghost when she wants to be and can sneak up on just about anyone. Pretty sure she practices on spiders since they’re tougher with all the eyes.” Dudley explained before turning to Petunia. “Are you two done buying everything the thrift department has for sale? And did you spare any of the money we need for the rest of our stuff?”

Petunia rolled her eyes. “Yes yes, your suffering is at an end for the day. We’ll have to make another quick stop at the bank to convert at least a few more pounds into galleons though.” Harriet spoke up at this.

“Maybe me and Dudley can head to Flourish and Blotts to gather our books while you get more money? It would make the stop there go much faster.” Petunia pursed her lips slightly at the thought before conceding in her mind that it was a good idea at least- and hopefully one that wouldn’t end with a bookstore being burnt down.

“Very well, you two can go ahead then, and I suppose you can each pick out a book to read on your own- _a_ book, Harriet, as in _singular_ and not a six book series like last time. And try to find something not on the list that you’ll find interesting Dudley, even if you’re not much of the bookworm your cousin is.” Draco seemed almost amused at the family’s banter as he headed over to where his mother was in the store, muttering under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like Raven’s claws, or the like. Dudley hadn’t been able to quite make out the words though.

Harriet pouted at Petunia’s words. “You take all the fun out of reading. A whole bookstore full of books on magic and outside of the ones for school you limit me to just one?! Fine, but I’m getting the biggest bloody book I can find just to make up for it.” She muttered in annoyance as they left the clothing store. Petunia rolled her eyes at her niece’s dramatics.

“Fine by me. You’re the one carrying it all the way home though. And you won’t get to store it in your trunk either for that attitude.” Dudley chuckled.

“Should have kept quiet and accepted the one book, ya nerd.” Harriet glared at him.

“Just know that you just became the first person I’m going to wack over the head with that giant book when you get on my nerves in the next two months.” That put an end to Dudley’s humor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diagon alley ended up being way longer than I figured it would be so I opted to break it into two parts. next chapter will have the rest of the trip with them getting their books, potions supplies and wands. Plus a possible furry friend or two for the tiny terrors with a trip to the pet store lol. That chapter should be up later today.


	4. Diagon Alley: Part 2

In the end, while Dudley had to admit that the bookstores was actually pretty neat with all the different books it had for sale, it also ranked highest on his list of least favorite stops of the day.

Gathering two sets of the required books had been the easy work of all of two minutes considering they were all placed together in a section labeled ‘Hogwarts First year Textbooks’. What  _ hadn’t _ been so enjoyable was when his cousin stumbled upon a literal  _ cage _ full of books that were growling ominously. Especially so when Harriet thought it was good fun to ask the visibly weary store owner if she could look at one of them. 

Let it never be argued that his cousin’s sanity could be a rather fickle and sometimes lacking concept in the face of potential danger when a book was involved.

Despite being informed that they were books meant to be used in an advanced course for an elective class that they wouldn't even be able to take for another four years, Harriet insisted on looking through the book. The clerk had put on a set of heavy duty gloves and held a pair of sturdy looking tongs in one hand and her wand in the other before wrestling one of the books away from it’s siblings.

Dudley and the clerk starred in utter confusion when the book fell calm the moment Harriet had it in her hands and flopped open with an audible purr.

“Usually you have to stroke the spine just to get it even slightly calmed down. That one must really like you I guess.” The clerk informed them with a bewildered expression.

“Maybe the others are just in a really bad mood or something?” Dudley questioned before taking a step closer to the docile book in his cousin’s hands, only to jump back again as it growled warningly. ”Or Not!“

It was at that moment that Petunia rejoined the two children. “Got a bit more money that should last the rest of the day at least- And why is that book purring like a cat?” Harriet grinned.

“Found my giant book for personal reading. From the looks of it it’s full of cool information on all sorts of magical creatures. Not sure why the title says monster book of monsters when there’s a page on unicorns- Oh. ‘Like to impale foolish wizards when feeling threatened’. Yeah, I think I can see how that would be nice to know. Might just want to read this one thoroughly in case…’ She muttered as Petunia and Dudley stated in slight horror.

“I’m never going to be able to think about a unicorn in the same way thanks to you.” Dudley said.

Petunia shook her head in exasperation before turning to look at her son. “I’m almost worried about what book you’ve picked out Dudley.” She and Harriet blinked owlishly at the same time when Dudley held up a copy of ‘Charm Your Own Cheese’. Even the copy of ‘Monster Book of Monsters’ made a sound that could only be considered confused.

“What? It’s five galleons and teaches some neat spells on making cheese and even prank based cheese spells. If nothing else I can get some laughs out of it I figured and at least mine won’t  _ eat people when annoyed.” _ He directed pointedly at Harriet who scowled.

“Keep that up and I’ll find a way to train it only to bite you or something yet.” She threatened before Petunia swatted both of them across the backs of their heads.

“No bickering in the middle of a store. How much for all of these books?” Petunia wearily asked the clerk who smiled reassuringly.

“You’re actually in luck ma’am. The manager recently lowered the price of all first year textbooks. It’ll be 12 Galleons for the lot, plus an extra nine for the Monster Book of Monsters and Charm Your Own Cheese.” Petunia seemed surprised at the low price but wasn’t about to question it and paid quickly before ushering the three of them out of the store.

“Did you just give away 16 books for half the price it should have been?” The store’s manager questioned with a look of outrage on his face. The clerk rolled her eyes.

“You try paying the equivalent of several hundred muggle pounds for a bunch of school books for eleven year olds. Muggleborns like them deserve a bit of slack until they get used to our world. Besides, fifty galleons for a bullshit book on Lockhart? You’re lucky most wizards are too thick skulled to notice your overinflated prices.” She stated before returning to work and ignoring her flabbergasted boss.

“Alright. I already grabbed the things you’ll need for potions class after I left the bank, so I think the only thing you two really need that’s left on the list is your wands. Hopefully no-one loses an eye or gets blown up.” Petunia stated flatly as they entered Ollivander’s Wand Shop.

“Ah! Good afternoon!” Came an eager voice that echoed from among the shop’s rows of precariously stacked boxes of what Harriet could only imagine contained different wands. A moment later a springy looking older man walked out from among the dusty boxes, his white hair sticking up every which way as though an electric shock had recently surged through it. The man offered his hand for Petunia to shake as he smiled at all three of them.

“My name is Garrick Ollivander, owner of this fine shop, though most people just refer to me by my last name.” Petunia nodded slightly, a slight grimace on her face at being in such a dusty building.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Olivander. We’re here because my son Dudley recently got his acceptance letter to Hogwarts and needs a wand. My niece Harriet as well, though her letter won’t likely arrive for another month. Thought it’d be best to get both out of the way in one trip and all that.” Ollivander nodded in understanding, his smile never never wavering as his eyes landed on Harriet for a brief moment before recognition flashed behind them.

“Ah! A pleasure to meet you at last Miss Potter. I was wondering when I would be seeing you in my shop, had a feeling it would be soon though. And you must be Petunia Evans, Lily’s sister.” He directed to Petunia herself who nodded slightly in surprise.

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold you see, including Lily’s and even James’. Willow, 10 and three quarter inches long with a core of white river monster spine- Quite good at charms as I recall. What some would see as a fitting balance for the eleven inch length of mahogany and Curupira Hair that your father wielded for a number of years and achieved exceptional feats of transfiguration with.” Harriet soaked up the information about her parents eagerly as Ollivander’s face took on a curious expression.

“I wonder though, how that will reflect in you, if at all. But first, I believe Mr Dursley here would prefer to find his wand first and to slate his apparent boredom.” He sent a knowing look to the boy who was looking rather embarrassed at being called out on his lacking attention.

Ollivander vanished into the back room of his shop before returning a moment later with a single box before holding it out for Dudley to take the length of wood resting in it.

“Go on then, give it a flick. Rowan, with a Dragon Heartstring. Eleven inches exactly.” Dudley did as told and flicked the wand firmly in the direction of a lamp sitting on Ollivander’s counter, which flickered for a brief second, only to explode a moment later.

“Perhaps not Dragon heartstring then. A bit too much force I believe. But it seems that the wood itself is similar, if not  _ quite _ right. I wonder…” Ollivander muttered to himself as Dudley placed the wand quickly back in it’s box as the old wand maker shuffled back into the bowels of the shop. Harriet flinched at the sound of boxes being knocked over suddenly and what sounded oddly like a rooster crowing. She and aunt Petunia shared a worried look briefly as Ollivander came huffing out of the back room for a second time looking even more disheveled than usual.

“Don’t mind that commotion, just one of my core suppliers being rudely temperamental as usual. The blasted bird is temperamental at best I’m afraid, not to worry though- perfectly harmless.” He said in an attempt to be reassuring before handing Dudley the wand box.

“Why do I get the feeling that wasn’t an actual rooster crowing?” Harriet asked as Ollivander snorted.

“Very clever Miss Potter. That was in fact an Augurey, though a rather spiteful one who enjoys confusing others by sounding like various other birds. I use his feathers in a few wands from time to time, even if they’re water repellent nature makes them useless for quills. Go on them dear boy, give this one a try.” He directed the last part to Dudley who hesitantly picked up the wand, only to smile at what Harriet presumed was something only he could feel before flicking the wand at the shattered lamp as the pieces mended themselves back together. Ollivander clapped lightly in joy at the sight.

“Fascinating. A mixture of Wiggentree wood with a single Unicorn tail hair as it’s core. Ten inches this time around, and rather sturdy indeed. I believe you’ll find this wand to serve you quite well in the future Mr Dursley.” He wrapped the wand in a fresh and less dusty box before handing it to Dudley and turning his attention to Harriet.

“Now you, I expect to be a rather tricky customer Miss Potter. Here you are, give it a go.” He handed her a light brown wand that made Harriet gasp in pain before dropping it as the handle burned in her light grip.

“How curious. I had figured this wand might have a good chance of bonding to you in light of certain events, but I suppose not. Perhaps something a bit more...unexpected.” Ollivander was quick to disappear back among the shelves yet again as Harriet spoke up.

“Um, Mr. Ollivander? What about that wand made you think it would pick me in the first place? It felt like it was about to burn the skin off my hand.” The man had a sad look in his eyes as he reappeared.

“As I mentioned earlier, Miss Potter. I remember every wand I’ve ever made- every last one of them. It so happens that the wand that rejected you is the twin to the wand that gave you that scar across your neck ten years ago shortly after taking the lives of both of your parents I’m afraid. If I had known the evil and twisted things that it’s master would commit with it, I most certainly would have refrained from allowing the cursed thing to leave my shop at all.” 

_ ‘Oh _ .’ Harriet wasn’t sure what else she could think let alone say at that revelation. She couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved that the wand hadn’t chosen her to serve as a link to such a person.

“Perhaps this wand will be better suited to you. Ebony, with the tail feather of a Thunderbird rather than Phoenix. Thirteen inches and three quarters long, with a very little sway in it’s flexibility.” The moment her fingers wrapped around the nearly pitch black wood of the wand’s handle, Harriet had a feeling she knew the feeling that Dudley had experienced when he found his wand- warmth, and a sense of rightness she couldn’t recall feeling until now.

Ollivander offered a small smile. “A rare combination indeed. I believe we can expect you to do great things with this wand Miss Potter. And you with yours as well Mr. Dursley, make no mistake there. That’ll be 14 galleons altogether Mrs. Dursley, and I’ll even throw in a pair of complementary wand holsters for each of them. Why most students these days insist on not even asking about such a thing rather than shoving their wands into back pockets, I’ll never know.” They were quick to pay for their purchases and leave the store, their now rather filled trunks being hauled behind both children.

Petunia huffed under her breath. “I know I’m going to regret this later, and I’m blaming Lily’s insistence when we were kids that every witch and wizard should have a ‘familiar’ as they called their pets. But so long as you both promise to be the ones who actually take care of the things, I’ll allow each of you a pet of your- own so long as they’re something small and don’t cause too much of a mess. Understood.” Harriet and Dudley shared a look of utter shock before nodding quickly in agreement. Petunia pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting her decision to be more lenient with her son and niece.

“Then let’s see what sort of blasted animals pass for as pets in Wizarding society shall we?” And thus the trio headed into the Magical Menagerie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this here just to wrap up the end of the trip to Diagon Alley. Next chapter will be a small time skip to September first and the train ride, as well as the reveal for what pets Dudley and Harriet picked out lol.


	5. Chapter 5

The two months leading up to September first passed in a blur for Harriet, who had immediately taken to reading through her schoolbooks with a level of eagerness that her aunt and cousin had rarely seen before. 

Petunia couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of relief that, despite her own feelings about it, magic seemed to give her niece something to focus on and enjoy fully. After so many years of having to sit by and watch as the man she’d called a husband verbally (and occasionally physically) abuse her niece at the slightest sign of happiness, Petunia felt satisfaction that there was finally something in the girl’s life for her to be happy about.

Even if it did involve an almost worrying fixation on questionably dangerous magical creatures. Petunia just tried to put that thought out of her mind though- her niece wouldn’t actually be in any danger of getting maimed by a unicorn or flattened into the ground by a giant.

Dudley however, while excited about magic as much as any other eleven year old could be expected to be, wasn’t quite as eager to spend his entire Summer locked in his room studying everything about it like his cousin seemed content to. He’d even made an attempt the day after their trip to Diagon to get Harriet away from her books and go outside- even attempted to bribe her with having her talk with the small snakes in the garden. He’d promptly had to run out of her room and down the stairs in fear when Harriet had sicced her new pet after him in annoyance at his nerve for trying to interrupt her studying.

He didn’t have enough bravery in himself to risk a further attempt after that day. His cousin’s pet may have been rather small and innocent looking, but Dudley had learned first hand the damage it could do if it got its claws against human skin.

Dudley was more than happy to leave his cousin to her books and in keeping away from her vicious demon of a pet in favor. Besides, he much preferred interacting with his own pet Niffler. In the rare occasions that the fuzzy rodent looking animal actually interacted with anything outside of the small nest Dudley had set up for him to sleep in on the corner of the room.

(Dudley ignored the blatant confusion on his mum and cousin’s faces when he’d decided to name the juvenile niffler Bob. He didn’t care about any fancy names for something like a pet, and it was the only thing ‘Bob’ seemed to actually acknowledge as a worthwhile name. 

It wasn’t like his cousin was one who could talk about being more clever about naming a beloved pet- honestly, whoever thought _Kevin_ was a fitting name for such a savage creature was beyond Dudley’s slightly limited understanding.)

At that, Dudley was begrudgingly reminded about his mum’s solution for trying to improve upon his slight difficulty with learning. Hence why the pair were about to leave for a brief trip to flourish and Blotts in search of any books that might help Dudley with tricks for retaining information he studied a bit easier. At least, that was how his mum had tried explaining it to him the night before.

Harriet had opted to stay home at the planned trip to the bookstore, especially after Petunia had firmly refused to let her bye anymore books for the rest of the Summer- _‘You have plenty to hold you over until school actually_ **_starts_ ** _Harriet, and then you’ll have all the books to read in that blasted library Lily used to ramble on about when we were kids.’_

Harriet hadn’t been very happy at the idea of being cut off from more books about magic, but the idea of a giant library full of the things had been tempting enough for her not to complain much as her Aunt and cousin left for the morning with plans to be back in time for lunch at the latest. She’d gone back to her room, fully intending to pick up on the chapter she’d been reading about ‘Magical Species of Snakes Commonly Found in the British Isles’, only to spot Kevin sitting firmly on top of the book and glaring at her pointedly.

“Okay, fine. I’ll take a bloody break from the reading you menace.” Harriet grumbled in slight annoyance at her pet playing the role of ‘Study break enforcer’ apparently. 

“You know, most kids your age don’t need their pets to force them into taking a study break. At least ‘Kevin’ here cares about your already wellbeing enough to make sure you don’t burn yourself out.” Death spoke up as he appeared beside the, rather large, stack of books on magical subjects.

Harriet rolled her eyes at Death’s words. “Really? You’re going to scold me about working myself too much? Death, the way your Reapers tell it, you’re the definition of a workaholic and thus in no place to say a bloody word to me about studying too much about magic.” Death just pointedly ignored her comment in favor of holding up a familiar box.

“Be that as it may, we could both use a break I suppose, and it’s been far too long since last we played a round or two. Up for a game?” Harriet cursed the knowing smirk on the smug bastard’s face before begrudgingly nodding once. 

“Fine. But only so I can kick your ass like last time.” 

“It was a draw after the third hour and you know it. You can’t bluff me of all people Harriet.” He stated in mild irritation at the reminder of what had been a rather infuriatingly long game a few weeks back.

Hence how Harriet currently found herself sitting across from Death, hand firmly on her own dice cup and face blank as the two of them played Liar’s Dice. 

Death had found the idea of playing something like checkers too boringly like his actual job to bother playing it when he was meant to be on vacation and taking an extended break from Reaping souls. Harriet was also fairly sure at least _one_ of Death’s human disguises he used from time to time had a rather large gambling debt gathered from the entity’s love of anything related to dice and/or bluffing.

Which was a bit funny, because he sucked at it enough that Harriet was able to regularly out-bluff _Death_ of all things whenever they played Liar’s Dice. 

“Six fours.” Death wagered and Harriet grinned.

“You’re such a Liar.” Death huffed under his breath before revealing his dice- 3 fours, a two, and two fives- and looked at her in slight exasperation. 

“How are you so good at this? It’s not like I have any tells.” Harriet snorted in amusement before showing her own dice of 5 fives.

“Because it’s physically impossible for there to be more than five of anything but five itself this round. Why you insist on sticking to such high bets so early in a round I’ll never understand. Plus your left eye twitches slightly when you bluff, so yes you do have a tell.” She explained, much to Death’s annoyance.

“Why do I even play this game with you anymore?”

Harriet shrugged. “Because you don’t have anyone else crazy enough to play dice games with who isn’t deathly afraid of you and I’m great fun to be around?” Kevin picked that moment to argue with his tiny human by throwing a spare dice - Death tended to throw fits when he lost more than three games in a row and thus tended to lose the dice rather easily, hence spares being a necessity - at her head as testament to his disagreement with that statement. 

“Oh hush! You’re a bloody sentient _plant_! Like you know how likable I am to other people.” Kevin made a chattering sound that Harriet was almost certain meant offense at the ‘sentient plant’ bit. Who knew Bowtuckles were so easily offended?

Harriet’s attention was dragged from her irritated looking pet by the sound of the front door slamming shut and the angry ranting of her Aunt. 

_‘Guess the shopping trip didn’t go that well.’_ She mused before quickly leaving her room and heading downstairs to the kitchen, where Petunia was already in the midst of gathering the ingredients for what looked to eventually be a cake.

_‘Dear god, today can’t have gone well. She only stress bakes while angry if something royally infuriates her.’_

Harriet stood in growing worry as her aunt sped around the kitchen, all the while muttering under her breath what sounded like ‘Idiotic wizards’ and ‘outdated methods’.

“Uh, dare I ask what happened at the bookstore to get you so upset?” Harriet ventured to ask, only to flinch slightly at the loud sound of her aunt slamming a metal bowl onto the counter. Petunia saw the flinch and seemed to force herself to let out a long sigh.

“Didn’t mean to get so upset, sorry. It’s just those blasted wizards apparently don’t have a single book on the topic of helping any children who may have difficulties learning when it comes to schoolwork. Apparently it’s unheard of for even muggleborn’s like Dudley to struggle with learning the in’s and out’s of a new culture based around something they grew up thinking didn’t actually exist until their letters arrive. Idiots clearly never heard of culture shock let along the notion of students having trouble adjusting to a vastly different curriculum that in no way mimics the one they grew up with.” Petunia ranted, much to Harriet’s growing shock at what she was hearing.

“Seriously?” Petunia nodded once, an annoyed frown on her face at the thought. “That’s just downright stupid of them then. And what’s different about Hogwarts curriculum compared to the ones most muggle schools offer?”

Petunia scoffed. “For one, they don’t apparently offer many non-magic based classes whatsoever. Parents are apparently expected to have taught non-muggleborn students things like math and English skills such as reading and writing. I don’t know how the parents of less wealthy families are meant to afford to give their kids the equivalent of two separate educations. Hogwarts is expensive with just the supplies for classes and whatnot.”

Harriet nodded along. “That definitely can’t be easy for some of them. At least the attendance fees are covered with the general scholarships for all magical children in Britain. They at least have enough common sense and logic to realize a boarding school like Hogwarts would be ridiculously expensive otherwise.”

Petunia nodded her head in agreement before seemingly realizing something. “I shouldn’t be ranting about this kind of thing with you, you’re a bit young to have to worry about stuff like this. And no, I’m not saying that because I think you’re not mature enough to hold your own opinions about this stuff, god knows you’d more than talk circles around more adult topics than school board incompetence, but you’re still eleven Harriet. You should be worrying about stuff more your age, like school _work_ rather than school _expenses_ and whatnot.” 

Harriet let out a huff. “Not my fault most kids my age do stuff that requires the attention span of a fruit fly. I’m more than happy to argue about wizard’s being idiots about this stuff.” Petunia shook her head in exasperation.

“And that’s what worries me the most Harriet. I swear, if I get a letter this year telling me that you’ve set up a petition or something to replace the school board or tried to completely overhaul the curriculum, I’ll ground you from any library or bookstore for a year so help me.” Harriet looked as though her aunt had threatened to cut off her arm rather than her access to new reading material. “Now come on, help me out with this cake. We both need something mundane and normal to take our minds off the idiocy of the wizarding world apparently.”

* * *

The Summer passed fairly quickly after that day. Harriet had taken to explaining several of the different topics covered in their books to Dudley when he was confused on something after Petunia had talked him into trying to read ahead and to try and take his studying a bit more seriously, especially once they were actually at Hogwarts.

In what seemed to be a blink of an eye for Harriet, September the first had finally arrived and the family of three - after triple checking that both Harriet and Dudley had their things packed securely in their respective trunks and pets in their cages in hand - piled into Petunia’s somewhat small car and drove off to King’s Cross Station. Only to immediately hit a snare of confusion on the children’s part (And something that Harriet vowed to research more about later) at the mention of a platform 9 and ¾’s. 

“I remember Lily mentioning once about how the entrance was hidden from muggles and that she thought that friend of hers was messing with her when he told her how it worked. Conveniently however, she never actually mentioned what that way actually was.” Petunia muttered under her breath in mild annoyance as Harriet caught sight of a familiar pair of blondes in front of them a short way along with a similarly blonde man.

“Let’s ask Draco and his parents how it works. He seemed nice at least that day in the robes shop. I doubt they’ll mind too much.” Harriet suggested and Petunia nodded in agreement.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask at least.” The trio approached the family of blondes who turned their attention to them as Petunia made their predicament known.

“Of course Dumbledore wouldn’t bother sending a note with the ticket to explain how to access the platform to a family new to Wizarding society.” The man who introduced himself as Draco’s father scoffed in annoyance at the mention of who Harriet had read was the headmaster of Hogwarts. 

Draco’s mother, Narcissa, guided them to the barrier between platform nine and ten and offered a kind smile to Harriet and Dudley before explaining.

“It’s fairly simple really. There’s an invisible opening there that lead’s right to 9 ¾’s that you just have to walk through, though most prefer to go at it at a jog or light sprint the first time.” She offered before Draco demonstrated by strutting right through the brick wall with a confident grin on his face. Harriet had a feeling he was enjoying the chance to show off about this kind of stuff to them, not that she minded all that much. She had a feeling her own attitude would be fairly similar if she had been the one to grow up in the wizarding world and was showing off parts of it to her new friends.

Draco’s parents followed behind their son a moment later, leaving the three of them staring at the barrier.

“Alright then, best hurry up you two. The train leaves in half an hour and you don’t want to miss out on finding good seats that aren’t already taken now.” Petunia stated as Dudley and Harriet turned to face her and she frowned slightly.

“Dudley, try to stay out of trouble this year, alright? Hogwarts is a fresh start for both of you now, and I want you two to make the most of that chance, understand?” Dudley nodded firmly at his mother’s words before she turned her direction solely on Harriet.

“Try not to spend all your free time with your face in a book Harriet. Hogwarts is sure to have plenty of people you can make friends with even if the old primary school didn’t have kids worth being friends with.” Petunia had hated how the kids at Harriet and Dudley’s former primary school always excluded them both from most activities when possible - Dudley for not being as smart as them, Harriet for her ‘freakishness’ and bookish ways - and had been relieved at the thought of Hogwarts being a different case for both of them when it came to making friends.

“Plus,” Petunia added in thought. “Lily did mention how one of the school houses, Raven’s Claw I think? Was full of students who spent their time reading books all the time. Maybe you could make a couple of friends with them if no one else is smart enough to see what an amazing friend you’d make. Perhaps you’ll even end up sorted into the same house as them, though that won’t convince me to give you unlimited access to Flourish and Blotts, don’t even try to swing that with me Missy.” 

Harriet pouted briefly but smiled nonetheless at her Aunt’s clear worry for her. “I’ll be fine Aunt Petunia. I’m sure there are bookish kids in all four houses that I can make friends with, even if I’m not a _Ravenclaw_.” 

Petunia shook her head fondly. “I’ve just given you all the incentive and permission you need to guiltlessly spend every waking moment until the end of term with a book, didn’t I? Should have thought that out better.” She muttered before pointedly gesturing towards the barrier. “Alright, you two are gonna miss the train at this rate, get going now, and stay safe and out of trouble or so help me…” She warned as Harriet and Dudley nodded quickly and hurried through the barrier a minute later.

Five minutes, three of which were spent ogling at the cherry red steam engine that would be taking them all to Hogwarts, the cousin’s stepped aboard the nearest compartment and hauled their trunks behind themselves while searching for an empty compartment. At least, that was the plan until Draco found them and dragged them to his compartment where a few other kids in their year were already settled in for the several hour long trip as they introduced themselves.

"Potter? As in the 'girl-who-lived'? You didn't mention that was your last name in the shop." Draco looked surprised. 

Harriet shrugged halfheartedly. "What does it matter really? So I survived a curse that no one had managed to before, big deal. It doesn't change the fact that my parent's were killed the same night and I was left an orphan." The compartment was awkwardly silent for several minutes after that, none of it's occupants knowing how to change the topic in light of _that_ fact.

Thankfully, the awkwardness was broken when the compartment door slid open to the sight of a girl with bushy brown hair and a nervous looking boy with blonde hair.

"Sorry for barging in like this, but have any of you seen a toad by any chance? Neville's escaped from it's cage." The girl asked them. Each of them shook their head in the negative before Harriet spoke up.

"Have you tried using a summoning charm to find him?" Daphne Greengrass glanced at her with a raised brow.

"That's a fifth year spell, Potter. None of us are expected to be able to use it for years yet." Harriet rolled her eyes before pulling out her Ebony wand.

"Because wizard's are stupid in their assumption that magical ability can't possibly be stronger these days then it was when they learned it all. Observe, what's the toad's name?"

"T-t-Trevor." Nevile stuttered. Harriet nodded.

" _Accio Trevor."_ She waved her wand in the motion she'd practiced over the summer, and a few seconds later a light thump hit the window at a fat toad flew into it, luckily unharmed if a bit dazed.

"Trevor! Thanks so much for that, he's always escaping from me, and he can be a pain to keep track of sometimes." Neville exclaimed before prying the annoyed toad off the window to the compartment's door. Harriet nodded before pocketing her wand again in it's holster.

"No problem. And if he escapes again, you can always try going to a Prefect and asking them to cast the charm for you." Neville nodded in thanks before dragging a shocked Hermione away back into the hall and to their own compartments.

The minute the door was closed once more, Harriet found herself being dragged into a debate about magic, somehow, with Draco and Blaise. Dudley, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle started talking about the difference between muggle and wizarding sports.

Harriet had a feeling that, regardless of house, Dudley would get along well with the two boys. The three seemed rather similar in personality so far. Pansy seemed interesting, if slightly confusing for a reason that Harriet couldn’t place.

Daphne had barely glanced up from the magazine she was reading, which Harriet was overjoyed to find out was about advanced Transfiguration Theory- already she’d met someone who seemed to share her preference for reading anything academic over social interaction with other human beings.

“Don’t mind Daphne here, she’s not always so blatant about ignoring people usually. Not much of a morning person though and it’s a bit early for her to bother hiding it.” Tracey Davis offered with a casual shrug even as Daphne rolled her eyes before resuming her reading. Dudley chuckled.

“Should get along just fine with Harriet then. Pretty sure this is the longest I’ve seen her go without a book in hand for the last two months or so.” Harriet glared at her cousin but was interrupted from responding verbally by a familiar chatter of agreement from her sleeve.

Lifting her arm slightly and narrowing her eyes at the sight of Kevin clearing having decided against staying in his now empty cage that she had tucked under her seat, Harriet chastised her pet. “You need to stop picking the lock on your cage whenever you’re bored Kevin. Also, stop siding with Dudley every five minutes! Whose pet are you supposed to be?!” Kevin gave a blank look at her words that clearly meant he couldn’t care less about her annoyance at his tossed aside allegiance to his owner.

“Seriously? Who names a Bowtruckle of all things ‘ _Kevin_ ’?” Pansy looked baffled at the mere idea even as Harriet pointed accusingly at Dudley who sat beside Bob who was sleeping away in his cage, seemingly content to remain in his shiny little mobile home for now at least.

“Kevin’s a better name then Bob at least. Plus he can pick locks, apparently quite easily, and actually responds to me other than begging for shiny stuff.” She teased, as Bob chose that moment to wake suddenly with a squeak at the word ‘shiny’.

Draco stared at the two cousins in bafflement briefly before shaking his head. “You two are beyond strange, I swear. Also, Harriet, I will literally pay you if you can take Daphne here with you to Ravenclaw when you’re inevitably sorted there. I’m not spending seven years dealing with her rants about Transfiguration any more than necessary.” Daphne responded curtly by kicking the boy in the shin.

“Keep talking Malfoy and see who helps you with your abysmal essays for that class.” She threatened as Draco rubbed his now sore leg briefly before snapping looking back at his friend in horror.

“I take it back! Please don’t ever leave me to such a cruel fate Daphne, you’re my only hope at not failing McGonagall’s class!” Daphne smirked slightly.

“Better. Might want to learn how to watch your tongue one of these days Draco. Never know when it’s gonna get you into trouble.” Harriet giggled slightly.

“He’s lucky you just threatened him lightly like that. I would have said something along the lines of cutting that tongue of his clean out. Makes him more appreciative of it when he’s still got it attached.” Pansy snickered at that.

“Damn Potter, who would have guessed there was a bit of snake in you after all? We might just be able to make a Slytherin out of you before the feast yet. Your cousin, maybe not so much. No offense Dudley, but you seem more like a Hufflepuff then a snake or ‘Claw.” Dudley didn’t look offended in the slightest.

“Fair enough, I guess. Not sure where I’ll be sorted, but anywhere that doesn’t have me in the position of keeping Harriet from murdering someone is fine by me.”

Harriet shot him an offended glare. “Hey! Your mum said we both keep each other out of trouble. Same house or not you still get to deal with me regardless so get used to that fact Dudley.”

“Hold up,” Blaise held up a hand. “Do we even want to know how many times Harriet’s nearly murdered someone that it’s become your job at this point?” Dudley shook his head firmly with an exaggerated look of exhaustion on his face.

“Way too many to keep track. Let’s just say that annoying people are not the kind that it’s smart to leave her around for long. I stopped counting after it reached double digits when we were both six.”

“Two hundred and forty seven to be exact.” Harriet chimed in, much to everyone’s bewilderment. ”What? Primary school was filled with irritating little shits of human beings called classmates and I didn’t have enough patience to deal with them everyday and not feel the urge to strangle the twits. Dudley’s lucky he could reliably keep me restrained enough for them to run away in fear most of the time.”

Dudley gaped at her. “‘Restrained’?! You bit my arm to try and escape more times than I can count! The doctor was fairly surprised there wasn’t any lasting nerve damage by the time we were eight.”

Harriet had the decency to look abashed. “I’ve already apologized for that forty-six times! You’ve got to learn how let go of a grudge already Dudley!”

“Says the girl who still swears revenge on Daisy Fitzgerald for stealing your lunch money when we were seven.” 

Harriet shrugged. “Never said I didn’t have an issue letting go of grudges. I just don’t bring it up every other day like you do.” Dudley looked close to strangling his cousin at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain in the ass to write, not gonna lie, and I'm not entirely sure how satisfied I am with it. let me know what you think though in the comments. 
> 
> Side note: I've always found it a bit stupid that Hogwarts apparently allows pets as big as and easily claw happy as cats while there are plenty of relatively harmless and smaller magical pets students could have but weren't apparently allowed from the looks of things in canon. Thus Harriet and Dudley both get pets that aren't on the canon approved list because I find it hard to believe anyone's gonna care enough to complain about a slightly temperamental sentient twig and a lazy as hell Niffler who prefers sleeping most of the time and eating as long as Dudley offers him an occasional sickle or galleon lol. And yes, they're both lousy at naming pets, hence Kevin and Bob lol. They're eleven and Petunia didn't have the heart to turn down their name picks lol.
> 
> Side Note: added a bit more to the train scene where Harriet's last name is talked about very briefly, as well as her showing off her skill in magic by helping speed up the Trevor hunt that Hermione and Neville were on in canon lol.


	6. Evil Boats, Ghosts, Sortings, and Sadistic Founders- All before bed.

By the time the train finally came to a stop and everyone hurried off to meet up with the rest of their year, exhaustion was already creeping into Harriet’s veins. The last few hours of forcing herself to not retreat behind her nearest book and to actually try socializing with other children her own age had left her nerves dangerously thin and the desire to find the nearest comfy looking spot to pass out on near the top of her list of priorities.

Right behind food, as her stomach reminded her with a quiet rumble of displeasure at having to go so long without a decent, non-candy based, meal. The pair of sandwiches she’d had for lunch seemed like ages ago to Harriet, even if it’d only been a few hours at best. 

“At least term always starts with a big feast, so you won’t have to wait much longer to satisfy that insatiable beast you call a stomach.” Dudley teased quietly from next to her as they followed a few paces behind the rest of their group. Dudley merely shrugged at her surprised look.

“What? It’s not really shocking that I’d figure out the food arrangements ahead of time, is it? I can study ahead for  _ some _ things at least.” 

“I never said you didn’t. Just a bit surprised that you remembered something I didn’t for a change. Usually food’s the easy stuff to keep in mind for me.” Dudley offered another half-shrug.

“It’s been a long day of interacting with more people then you’re used to. If you managed to remember every small detail in advance, I’d start getting worried about your sanity.” Harriet was interrupted from making a snarky comment by a booming voice calling for ‘first years! Over Here First years!’, the source of which was possibly the largest man she’d ever seen. Which was rather impressive to pull off, considering Uncle Vernon was his own level of giant.

Harriet felt her stomach turn with mild dread at the sight of the boats they apparently had to take to actually get to the massive castle itself. Dudley seemed to realize exactly what was going through her head as his own eyes landed on the boats and he bumped his shoulder against hers lightly.

“Try to relax a bit, okay? I really doubt they’d use boats if there was any real risk of a student falling out into the water. We’re eleven and didn’t you mention reading about there being a giant squid and mermaids in the lake? If it wasn’t safe, they would have changed it, don’t you think?”

His reassurance did little to actually calm her nerves, but Harriet nodded slightly in agreement nonetheless as they carefully climbed into a boat that Pansy and Draco had already stumbled into.

“Not a fan of boats?” Pansy questioned upon noting Harriet’s nauseous look the moment their boat started moving along with the other’s. Harriet shook her head.

“Water. Bad experience growing up. Don’t want to talk about it.” She forced out as the other students seemingly got their first look at Hogwarts. Harriet was firmly keeping her eyes closed until her feet were on dry land however, thank you very much. Draco and Pansy shared a slightly worried look between themselves, not that Harriet herself noticed, before Draco opted to change the subject.

“So what classes are you two looking forward to the most? We never really talked about it on the train all that much, did we?” Harriet was grateful for the distraction, even if it was a minor one.

_ ‘Why does Hogwarts need such a big fucking lake?! And why bother sailing across it in dingy little boats instead of just walking up with the rest of the students in a separate group or something?! I swear Wizards are fucking sadists!’ _

Dudley shrugged half-heartedly. “Not sure really. It all seemed kinda complicated from just reading about it, guess I’ll just have to wait and see how the actual classes themselves go. Though Defense Against the Dark Arts sounds kinda interesting. Potions sounds like a nightmare though, all the specific instructions for the recipes in our book didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.” Pansy snorted in amusement as Draco had a scandalized look on his face.

“Never get started on potions with Blondie here, he’ll never shut up. Defense sounds interesting in theory, but the way I heard it, our teacher this year may not be all that helpful. Scared of his own shadow apparently, even when he was just the muggle studies teacher last year. What about you Harriet?”

Harriet grinned slightly before knocking her much smaller shoulder against her cousin’s arm, not that it even phased him in the least. “I’m all for learning defensive magics, if only because they sound pretty useful, but I’m actually of a similar mind to Draco when it comes to potions.” She offered, even as the boy in question shot Pansy a smug grin. “It looked pretty interesting at least, especially the section on common poisons.”

“See Pans’, at least Potter has common sense when it comes to the classes she appreciates. Unlike you heathens I’m forced to call friends.” Draco teased as their boat  _ finally _ came to a rest against the shore closest to the castle.

Harriet felt relief roll over her the moment her feet were firmly back on solid ground as the feeling of nausea finally eased up on it’s firm hold over her stomach. If the others caught the sound of her muttered curses regarding the boats themselves, they thankfully didn’t care enough to chastise her - in her aunt’s opinion at least - horrible language habits.

The group of first years followed behind Hagrid as he led them towards a small wooden door, that Harriet was convinced he almost certainly wouldn’t be able to fit through himself, where a stern looking older witch stood wearing green robes.

“The First years, Professor McGonagall. All accounted for, safe and sound as usual.” The woman, McGonagall, nodded firmly.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I’ll handle them from here.” Soon they were left alone with the stern looking woman that Harriet had quickly remembered was likely the same McGonagall who served as the Deputy Headmistress. She made a mental note not to get on the woman’s bad side anytime soon if she could help it.

Professor McGongall guided them all to a large room that held a massive set of wooden doors where they were told to wait.

“Behind these doors, the rest of your fellow students are already seated in preparation for the sorting that will be taking place momentarily. For those of you who do not know, the sorting will be where you are each placed into one of the four houses here at Hogwarts. They are as follows: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. While at Hogwarts, your house will serve as your family. That is to say, you will eat meals with your house at your respective table within the Great Hall here, sleep in your house dormitories, and attend classes with the fellow members of your house within your year. You will be expected to represent your house well during your time here: house points will be given for following the rules and so forth, while breaking the rules will result in points being taken from your house instead.”

Professor McGonagall went on to explain the House cup that would be awarded at the end of the year and how it was apparently a great honor to the house who claimed it. To Harriet, it sounded like just another kind of popularity contest that didn’t seem likely to encourage the students from different houses to work together in any way. Wasn’t that something equally important? It certainly didn’t seem that way as the stern professor left them standing there, likely to attend to the sorting itself.

Harriet spoke quietly to Dudley who was still standing next to her. “Sounds like a dumb popularity contest to me, huh Dudley? What do you say we, regardless of the houses we end up in, just agree to work together and focus on getting decent grades in class instead. Deal?” Dudley grinned slightly at that before shaking her offered hand.

“Deal. All this stuff about points all for a cup that the winning house’s head gets to keep in their office for a year? Doesn’t sound like something worthwhile for the students who earned all those points in the first place.” It was moments like this that Harriet always found herself slightly surprised at how smart or aware Dudley could actually be about things. It always left her feeling slightly guilty of teasing him about school over the years.

It was in those moments, as everyone in their year stood around nervously or impatiently, that Harriet made a sort of vow with herself to work on being a better person to her cousin from that moment on. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise, not with how much Dudley had been willing to stand up for her in the last couple of months.

A familiar chill in the air alerted Harriet to the fact that the room they all stood in was no longer filled with only the living at this point. Point in case, a loud commotion took place as a number of ghosts walked through one of the walls close to the group. Harriet felt the corners of her mouth tick up slightly in the beginning of a smirk- one that Dudley caught sight of quickly.

“You knew that was coming, didn’t you?” He muttered much to Harriet’s amusement as she nodded.

“It's not my fault that this thing can let me see the magic around me.” She gestured to the stone eye that currently sat in her left socket. “Or that ghost’s cause the magic around them to dim slightly as they subconsciously absorb it to maintain their corporeal forms properly. Plus they tend to make the air fairly chilly right before they show up.” She shrugged lightly as Dudley’s expression turned slightly confused as he sorted through her words in a way that would make sense to him.

“Oh, little firsties! About to be sorted I’ll bet.” A plump looking ghost spoke joyfully as the group of ghosts finally noticed them standing there with mixed looks of awe and slight fear. Harriet recognized from ‘Hogwarts: A History’ that the ghost in question was almost certainly the ‘Fat Friar’ as most wizards referred to him, a title that she knew the man resented but was too kind to bother correcting people.

“And you’re Robert Stafford, otherwise known as the Fat Friar.” She spoke up, much to the ghost’s apparent shock from the surprised look on his face that quickly turned into a large smile.

“A firstie who knows my name already? Haven’t seen that in centuries now. I’d hope for you being sorted into Hufflepuff, my own house it was, mind you, but a clever mind like that wouldn’t do as well outside of Ravenclaw I fear.” Harriet shrugged, having to force down the sorrow she felt at the idea that people couldn’t even be bothered to learn the names of ghosts as famous as these four, outside of Gryffindor’s own Sir Nicholas.

“Not sure how witty it is to know a famous ghost’s name really, it’s in Hogwarts: A History, chapter twelve. Besides, plenty of smart people were sorted into all the houses over the years, not just Ravenclaw has the monopoly on them.” The Fat Friar nodded once as the large doors to the Great Hall opened to Professor McGonagall who shooed the ghosts away.

“That’s enough now Friar, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to interact with the new students this year.” She told the plump ghosts sternly, though Harriet could have sworn there was the brief flash of a fond smile on the woman’s face before it was gone a moment later.

It was only as the ghosts finally departed by floating through the nearest wall, that Harriet realized her little interaction with Hufflepuff’s house ghost had caught the attention of her entire year for the last several minutes. Luckily McGongall was quick to shepherd them all into the Great Hall before anyone could ask any questions of her. Harriet didn’t really have the patience for trying to explain how - or why - she’d bothered learning so much about ghosts of all things.

“You have the weirdest study interests sometimes, I swear.” Dudley muttered from her left as they came to a stop a few steps in front of McGonagall who stood next to a ragged and patched looking hat upon an equally old looking stool. Harriet snorted quietly at her cousin’s words.

“Or maybe everyone else has boring interests and I needed something more exciting to read about in between studying the laws of Transfiguration. Either one could work in this situation I guess.” Her attention went back to the hat as it shuddered and seemed to come to life as a mouth-like opening tore itself along the seam. Harriet blinked owlishly as the bloody piece of cloth literally started  _ singing _ of all things.

_ "Oh you may not think I'm pretty, _

_ But don't judge on what you see, _

_ I'll eat myself if you can find _

_ A smarter hat than me. _

_ You can keep your bowlers black, _

_ Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_ For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_ And I can cap them all. _

_ There's nothing hidden in your head _

_ The Sorting Hat can't see, _

_ So try me on and I will tell you _

_ Where you ought to be. _

_ You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_ Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_ Set Gryffindors apart; _

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_ Where they are just and loyal, _

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_ And unafraid of toil; _

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_ if you've a ready mind, _

_ Where those of wit and learning, _

_ Will always find their kind; _

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin, _

_ You'll make your real friends, _

_ Those cunning folks use any means _

_ To achieve their ends. _

_ So put me on! Don't be afraid! _

_ And don't get in a flap! _

_ You're in safe hands (though I have none) _

_ For I'm a Thinking Cap!" _

The rest of the hall applauded the moment the song came to end as Harriet let out a relieved sigh that they’d only have to put on a hat to get sorted. She’d hated how frustratingly vague the book was about the sorting itself, and the anxiety it had caused in her vanished all at once - only to get replaced with annoyance towards wizarding society for apparently being filled with dramatic pricks who enjoyed inflicting anxiety on a bunch of children as her yearmates seemed to share her feeling of relief.

“Sure, make a bunch of untrained kids think they’re expected to know enough about magic to use it to determine their place among their schoolmates or if they even have a place. That’s real fucking smart.” Harriet muttered under her breath as McGonagall pulled out a roll of parchment.

“When your name is called, step forward. Abbot, Hannah.” A short girl with blonde pigtails hesitantly walked up to the stool as the hat was then placed over her head. It took barely five seconds for ‘Hufflepuff!’ to get called out and Harriet noted the relieved look on the girl’s face.

_ ‘At least she got sorted where she wanted, from the looks of it. I get the feeling more than a few people may not be so lucky.’ _ She mused as ‘Bones, Susan’ became another Hufflepuff and ‘Boot, Terry’ ended up the first Ravenclaw a few seconds later. Millicent Bulstrode became the first Slytherin. 

Harriet and Dudley shared equal looks of surprise when ‘Evans, Dudley’ was called after Fay Dunbar was sorted into Ravenclaw. She couldn’t help the small smile as her cousin’s surprise melted into relief, and helpfully shoved Dudley forward a few steps, not that her small frame could manage more if she’d tried. Harriet was just happy that her aunt and cousin were glad to be rid of Vernon’s family name after the divorce had been finalized back in May. 

She waited with bated breath as the hat was placed atop Dudley’s head, where it shuddered slightly before nodding, as much as Harriet figured a hat  _ could _ nod, before calling out Gryffindor, much to her own surprise. 

_ ‘Huh. Had him figured for a Hufflepuff. Dammit, I owe Death Twenty pounds!’  _ She thought in annoyance, even as she clapped slightly louder than she had up to this point as her cousin headed over to the table decked in red and gold. Harriet would be happy for her cousin at least, even if he’d just unknowingly cost her the equivalent of a new book’s worth of money.

Daphne Greengrass would soon follow Millicent a few minutes later as the second Slytherin after Hermione Granger had been sorted into Hufflepuff after a full six minute wait. 

Harriet noted how the two new Slytherins received noticeably less applause from the rest of the school, mostly from their own house, and she couldn’t help but frown at the reputation she’d read Slytherin house had was already firmly affixed to the two girls before anyone had really even gotten to know either of them. Harriet remembered the train ride and how Daphne had seemed like a rather smart girl, if quiet. It didn’t seem all that fair to judge someone based on their house’s history, even less so before getting to know the person first.

Her frown deepened further when Draco and Pansy were both sorted into Slytherin, and the negative reaction worsened even further when some of the Gryffindors even started  _ booing _ at them. Harriet felt almost disgusted by that point, they were fucking eleven for crying out loud, not the spawn of Lucifer or something worse!

Harriet had to force herself not to stomp up to the hat in irritation and borderline anger at the gall of some of the students when her name was called. She would have likely felt anxious at the sudden silence when people took note of her name, but as it stood, that irritation and growing anger took priority for once as the hat settled over her head. She huffed in annoyance when it fell over her eyes- she hated being so bloody small sometimes.

A voice chuckled in the back of her mind at that thought, much to Harriet’s discomfort at the sudden notion of a mind-reading hat poking around her head.

“Now now, no need to worry about me betraying your secrets my dear. I couldn’t even if I wanted, bound as I am to uphold the secrets of Hogwarts’ students. Not that there’s much I could reveal in the first place. You’ve quite the mental defenses in place Miss Potter, though from what I’ve seen of your cousin’s own mind, unprotected thing that it is in his case, I can understand the desire to keep yourself safe on that level. Even if it’s from yourself as it may be.”

_ ‘Last I checked, this little chat is about you figuring out where to sort me, not play therapist. So can we please stay focused on that instead?’ _ She thought bitterly- the feeling of someone going through her mind was fucking  _ bizare _ and downright unsettling, even if it was a bloody hat.

The hat just huffed in slight annoyance but conceded her point. “Very well, we can’t be here all night after all, though you do possess a rather fascinatingly complex mind to shift through for your age, past trauma notwithstanding. This will be a tricky one I believe.” The hat hummed thoughtfully for a moment before continuing.

“A rather sharp wit to you I see, and you do share Rowenna’s love for hoarding knowledge in that brain of yours. I can picture it now, easily top of your class for the next seven years, and I imagine it would be as simple a thing to pull off for you as breathing is to others. But that’s hardly your only defining trait, is it? A stubborn sort of courage, when it comes to dangerous things in life, but a courage nonetheless that Godric himself would be pleased to witness in one so young, even if the reason for it is not so easily stomached.” Harriet rather wished the barmy thing would speed things up a bit, her left leg was falling asleep already from sitting still so long.

“Wha- Are you  _ joking _ ?! It’s only been  _ three minutes _ and you’re  _ that _ restless?!” Oh, right. Mind-reading hat. Somehow Harriet had let that thought slip away briefly amongst the hat’s rambling about her brain. “Good grief, how Hufflepuff could turn that restless energy to a more positive outlet, though there’s little place for loyalty in your heart besides those most deserving. Ah, but there’s something more to you, isn’t there? That sharp wit you hold so close to heart has been honed over the years into a razor's edge, hasn’t it? Cunning, and an ambition to see things changed for the better regardless of the seemingly impossible odds. Of course! I know  _ EXACTLY _ where to put you now, sneaky little one aren’t you Miss Potter? Trying to hide that side of yourself from me wasn’t very effective. Oh, and say hi to your servant for me next time you see him, would you young mistress? It’s been forever since he’s allowed me to speak with my creator’s and they do so love learning how their houses have changed over the centuries. Better be SLYTHERIN!”

Harriet blinked rapidly as the hat was yanked off of her head a few seconds later by a slightly shocked looking Professor McGonagall before she jumped off of the small stool and headed over to the Slytherin table as the entire hall was left stunned by her sorting.

Until Slytherin, led by Pansy, Draco, and Daphne and a pair of twins with red hair started applauding with increasing volume. The twins seemed the most pleased, going off their ecstatic shouts of ‘We got Potter!’ over and over. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw joined in hesitantly a few seconds later, though not nearly as loud as the Slytherins, and she noted that Dudley was about the only Gryffindor who was clapping for her, much to the rest of his houses annoyance.

Taking a seat next to a rather smug looking Draco, Harriet couldn’t help but feel like the hat had made the right choice as Pansy and Daphne grinned equally smug as an older student with a badge pinned to their robes handed over a handful of galleons to each of the three first years.

“You bloody hustler Malfoy! You didn’t bother mentioning you apparently already knew Potter well enough to know she’d be a Snake instead of a lion!” Draco continued to grin smugly and shrugged unabashedly.

“You never asked, Flint. Not my fault it didn’t occur that you probably should have at least checked that possibility first before making a bet.” Harriet punched Draco in the shoulder ‘lightly’, though the boy acted more like she’d stabbed him in the eye-  _ ‘nope, not the best word choice. Shut up brain, we’re not going through that tonight anymore!’ _ She thought to herself, though the familiar ache in her left eye told Harriet that she could expect the headaches to start up again before too long.

_ ‘Great. There goes the decent night’s sleep that I’d been looking forward to. Thanks brain, you traitor.’ _

“You seriously bet on my sorting Draco? I figured your parents would have taught you how rude it is to swindle people out of their pocket money. Don’t make me borrow one of the school’s owls to send a letter to them about you already causing trouble ten minutes into being sorted.” That wiped the grin off of Draco’s face quickly as he paled slightly at the threat, much to ‘Flint’s’ amusement.

“Gonna have to remember you can keep him on a leash, Potter. Be damn helpful to know in the future with Malfoy here being a troublemaker already. Name’s Flint by the way, Marcus Flint. I’m the newest Prefect this year and will be helping you first years along with Gemma here.” The older boy explained as Harriet nodded in understanding.

“Good to know. I’m sure Draco will be the limit of trouble when it comes to our year though, so at least your job is an easy one on that part.” Pansy chose that moment to butt into the conversation that Harriet thought was going so lovely up to this point.

“Seriously Potter? What was it your cousin said on the train, something about you having a temper issue and habit of biting annoying people?” Harriet glared at the suddenly annoying sounding girl, even as Marcus paled slightly.

“Well my cousin needs to learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes when it comes to rumors. I only have a ‘temper issue’ when people interrupt my studying with idiotic questions or problems that a fruit fly could figure out.” Gemma let out an amused snort.

“Well good to know you’ll fit right in around here then, Harriet. And your cousin’s rumor spreading habits are likely to only get worse in Gryffindor, hate to tell you. Though the biting thing is likely to die out fairly quickly.” Harriet raised a brow.

“Huh. Weird, you’d think the one rumor that’s actually true would last longest? Might have to look into that fact a bit more later though. Maybe wizards are just odd like that.” She muttered towards the end, even as both prefects paled slightly, along with several second and third years.

“Wait, you mean that Dudley wasn’t joking about you biting people?” Daphne questioned as Harriet shrugged.

“Only when they’re annoying and it’s close to lunch time. My brain doesn’t always properly distinguish people from prey when I’m hungry.”

Draco leaned towards Theodore Nott who had a look of mild fear on his face. “Slytherin’s home to a tiny lunatic now, isn’t it?” Theodore just nodded in agreement, even as Harriet rewarded Draco’s comment with another swing at his arm- much to the boy’s growing pain.

“Okay, that one actually hurt. Note to self to not get on Harriet’s bad side. Message received and is currently being put to memory as we speak.” Harriet grinned.

“Good to know. It’s always best when people are capable of memorizing important facts quickly enough for it to matter. Good to know I’m not in a house full of morons at least. I find it makes studying so much easier.

The sorting finally came to an end with a, according to Draco at least, surprising addition to Ravenclaw in the form of Ronald Weasley, while Slytherin capped off it’s new additions with Blaise Zabini.

“A Weasley in Ravenclaw? That’s got to be a shock.” Marcus muttered. “Almost as much as when the twin demons ended up in Slytherin three years ago now. Professor Snape, our head of house,” He tacked on at Harriet’s confused look. “Hasn’t had a peaceful moment in three years because of those two. Always causing mischief, but apparently scary smart too. Guess they passed it onto their younger brother, though thank Merlin Slytherin doesn’t have three Weasley’s in it this year. I doubt we’d survive that much madness.” Pansy smirked before gesturing to Harriet.

“I say we still stand at a fifty percent chance of utter destruction being unleashed with Potter here alone. And about a day before she curses someone who annoys her.” Harriet pouted at the teasing at her expense even as the old wizard at the head of the staff table stood from his chair and waved his hand through the air.

“Welcome to yet another year of learning. I have a few announcements to make before tonight is over, but for now let us all tuck in and enjoy the lovely feast that has been prepared for us tonight. I also have a few words of wisdom for you all, Unity, Origins, Odyssey, and Valhalla. Thank you.” Dumbledore took his seat again, even as the majority of the student population was left baffled by the man’s odd words.

“He’s a bit mad, isn’t he?” Pansy asked Marcus, who just nodded lightly.

“Pretty much. But he’s supposedly brilliant when it comes to magic, and he’s actually not too terribly biased against our house, though being a Gryffindor himself there is the usual tinge of house favoritism that can be expected. Hasn’t stopped Slytherin from winning the Quidditch and House cups the last seven years in a row. We could have a worse headmaster than him.” 

Harriet frowned in thought. “What the bloody hell is Quidditch?” Marcus, Draco, and the Weasley twins down the table a bit looked equally offended by her question, to the point that Harriet was seriously wondering if she’d insulted someone’s dead relative or something by asking the question.

“Only the best bloody sport in the entire Wizarding world!” Draco exclaimed as Harriet took note of the food that had appeared in front of them a minute ago and started piling her plate full of various meats and a few vegetables. An annoyed chatter brought her attention to her pet who had opted to stay in Harriet’s sleeve rather than return to his cage when they departed the Hogwarts Express.

“Quiet Kevin. Humans actually  _ need _ to eat vegetables to stay healthy. We can’t all survive on wood lice and berries like you can.” She chastised under her breath as the Bowtruckle in question popped it’s head out of her sleeve with as close to an offended/scandalized look on it’s face as she figured Bowtruckles were capable of forming.

“Seriously? Your pet doesn’t like you eating vegetables? Usually kids our age would savor that kind of excuse.” Draco looked amused at the interaction even if Harriet failed to see the comedic value in it.

She rolled her eyes. “How hilarious. I’ve enough trouble keeping this menace happy for more than a few minutes at a time, and you’re picking his side? You try putting up with him for more than an hour. It’s a bloody nightmare.” Harriet muttered, getting an eye roll from Pansy and Daphne.

“It’s a twig, Potter. Can’t be that hard to keep it happy- just water it or something.” Kevin didn’t take too kindly to Pansy’s comment, and Harriet quickly snatched the Bowtruckle out of the air as it made a jump from her sleeve to the girl’s eyes, clawed fingers extended.

“Kevin! No, bad bowtruckle! No clawing out people’s eyes. I’d rather not get expelled before classes even start, you menace.” If Bowtruckles could pout, Harriet just _knew_ Kevin would be in that moment as she stuffed him back in her sleeve.

“Word of advice, don’t call bowtruckles plants. They take offense to it, royally. Plus they’re actually woodland spirits that are born from the remains of burned trees and take the form of plantlike creatures with the goal to protect other trees from the same fate. Weird, but neat. Plus Kevin’s a rather temperamental one who can hold a rather mean grudge.” Pleased chattering came from her sleeve at that.

“Chastised over a Bowtruckle. How is that something I can now cross off my bucket list if I wanted?” Pansy groaned before facepalming.

“Be happy it’s not coming from Dudley’s Niffler. If Bob ever actually stops sleeping all day and starts taking offense against the insulting comments made against his species, it could end up a thousand times worse than Kevin here. Nifflers can pull deadly puppy eyes, only to take a chunk out of your leg a split second later while you’re distracted.” Harriet reasoned, much to her surrounding classmates’ growing horror.

“I’m starting to think Hogwarts should have banned Bowtruckles and Nifflers from the approved pets list.” Marcus told Gemma, who nodded in agreement.

“But then you’d have to pan animals like cats and even rats for crying out loud! They can scratch and bite just as much. Plus Bowtruckles are too adorable to ban. They’re little twigs with anger issues, what’s not to love?” Harriet asked with a dead serious tone of voice as dessert finished with the final plates vanishing.

Dumbledore stood once again and gave a speech about the rules and what was and wasn’t allowed in the halls, which areas were forbidden, etc. before bidding them all goodnight. Harriet and her fellow first years followed Marcus and Gemma as they guided the sleepy eleven year olds down into the dungeons where their common room was- a fact that Harriet had found fascinating the first time she’d read about it, but was now leaving her rather irritated at the thought of how many bloody stairs she’d have to endure everyday to get to all their classes.

_ ‘Salazar must have been a fucking sadists, or an exercise enthusiast. Neither of which I support at this moment!’ _

“The password to our common room changes every two weeks, and the new one will be posted on the notice board inside. Keep it to yourselves, and if you see a member of our house has forgotten the current one and locked themselves out, don’t be an asshole who laughs at them, actually help them. Can’t believe the number of times I need to remind  _ some _ people of that.” Gemma told them, muttering the last part while staring pointedly at her fellow prefect.

Marcus had the decency to look shamed, even if Harriet had a feeling he felt no trace of such an emotion whatsoever. “Er, right. Don’t be a jerk. Anyhow, the current password is ‘essence of hemlock’, because our head of house is the potions teacher who enjoys being a touch dramatic in making sure we all ace his class.” Harriet had a feeling she was going to like their head of house already. At least she had easy access to any help she may end up needing in the subject.

Harriet’s first thought regarding the common room as an opening in the stone melted into existence, was that while her prior statement regarding Salazar Slytherin’s sadistic ways still held firm, she could at least admit that the man had decent tastes in designing a place of residence for the students of his house.

A large fireplace provided the majority of the light within the room, though a scattering of wall torches aided in illuminating the common room in a surprisingly warm light. The large windows that made up the far wall and looked into the great lake tinged the entire room in a soft greenish glow. Despite a brief feeling of unnerve at the thought of being deep enough under the ground that they were literally looking out into a massive expanse of water that could easily drown them all if some idiotic student accidentally vanished the glass keeping it at bay, Harrriet couldn’t help but feel a sense of relaxation as she took in the room as a whole- namely spying the inviting-looking couches in front of the fire.

_ ‘Definitely going to have to take up my reading in one of those, even if it means it’ll be harder to concentrate with all the noise.’  _

Harriet was broken from her thoughts by the billowing form of a tall man entering the common room from a side door. The man turned to face each of them, his attention pausing for a brief second when it landed on her before he moved on to the next student.

“Welcome to Slytherin house. My name is Professor Snape, your head of house as well as the Potions master here at Hogwarts.” He spoke quietly, though Harriet doubted there was a single person in the room who didn’t hear him perfectly clear.

“I will make this little chat quick and simple, as I imagine you are all quite eager to fall into bed after the long day. As it is Friday, you all fortunately get to sleep in as late as you wish tomorrow morning. On weekdays however, you will each be expected to be up and ready by no later than seven thirty where the house as a whole will journey to the Great Hall for Breakfast every morning. This rule is in place not with the assumption that any of you will be foolish enough to oversleep and risk missing breakfast entirely, but because Slytherin as a house must provide a united front.” A mildly annoyed look crossed Professor Snape’s face.

“Our house has, unfortunately, acquired an unjust reputation among the others. A reputation that has, in prior years, resulted in a number of attacks against students in our house. Thus it is encouraged to always travel with at least two other students at all times outside of class. The other rules are quite simple: Curfew is eight thirty, by which time you will be expected to be inside the common room no later than. Do not start fights with students in the other houses, but if one of them makes the first attack I fully expect each of you to make the last and end it as quickly as possible. And lastly…” Snape paused for dramatic effect, because of course he did. “If you must act against another student, don’t get caught.” 

Harriet blinked in surprise at that, but put it at the back of her mind because her brain didn’t have enough energy left to divert to anything besides staying awake long enough to reach her bed, which was thankfully soon after Snape’s ‘little chat’ as the man put it, was done and he swooped out of the common room with his robes billowing dramatically.

“Alright then, girls if you’ll follow me to your dormitory, boys follow Flint. And a word of advice for all of you, don’t try and go up the stairs to the other’s dorm rooms. They’re both enchanted to not let anyone who doesn’t belong there up, and you won’t like their ‘deterrent measures’.” Gemma spoke up the moment Snape had left before guiding Harriet and her roommates up the girl’s staircase.

“Alright girls, this door leads to your room for the year. If you have any questions, I’ll be down in the common room for another few hours, any later than that and it’ll have to wait until the morning.” Gemma nodded once and left them alone when no one posed any questions right off the back.

“Well, definitely bigger than I expected at least. Though I’m not used to the idea of sharing a room.” Pansy said as they all stepped into the room itself and took in the layout. Harriet didn’t hesitate before flopping face-down on the bed that her trunk had been placed at the foot of, Kevin making an annoyed chattering sound from her sleeve before fleeing for safety to avoid getting squashed any further.

“Really Harriet? It’s not even nine, don’t tell me you’re turning in already. We haven’t even properly introduced ourselves to one another yet.” Pansy sounded more amused than anything, though Harriet just huffed in annoyance at being denied the sweet embrace of sleep.

“Harriet Potter. There, introduction on my part is done. Now let me sleep.” She grumbled, head still buried in the fluffy comforter atop her bed. 

“You’re not even getting changed into pajamas?” Tracey Davis questioned from her own bed, curtains closed firmly indicating she was already ahead in that task. Harriet just shrugged before sitting up enough to adjust the rest of herself so that she was laying more fully on the bed instead of hanging off of it halfway.

“It’s the weekend. No need to waste a pair of pajamas tonight. Besides, too comfy to move.” She muttered into her pillow, only to squeak in surprise when a pillow was chucked at the back of her head from Daphne’s direction, or what she remembered briefly as the direction Daphne had been walking in when they first walked into the room. Something that Kevin found amusing, the laughter-like chattering noise giving away his joy at seeing her getting hit with the pillow.

“You are not sleeping in today’s clothes like an animal Harriet! Slytherins aren’t lazy, and I’m not letting you give our house that kind of reputation before classes start!” Harriet contemplated ignoring the blonde, only to come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the way to make friends anytime soon, much as the effort annoyed her. She opted to let out a huff to convey her annoyance at being dragged from her comfy new bed as she sat up and opened her pitch black trunk with a gesture of her wand as the lock clicked open and the lid swung up.

“Fine. But you lunatics better not be morning people who try to wake everyone up at the asscrack of dawn, or so help me I’ll sic Kevin on all of you.” Kevin seemed pleased by this arrangement, the eager chattering indicating his consent in serving as an attack animal/plant-like creature.

“Right, we’ll let her get fully rested before testing her patience.” Millicent spoke up, eyeing Kevin wearily, much to the Bowtruckle’s joy.

“Also, Potter, did you just cast a nonverbal unlocking charm on your trunk?” Pansy looked equal parts shocked and impressed as Harriet shrugged distractedly while searching through her clothes for her pajamas.

“Magic’s all about intent, at least according to the books. Mean a spell hard enough and you can get it to work pretty easily with enough concentration. Gets easier the more you do it until it becomes instinct. I’ve been practicing with that one and a few other simple spells for the last few months and pulling a couple off without the incantations even easier than the books made it out to be. Ah! Gotcha!” She exclaimed upon locating a pair of pajamas that were, oddly enough, under a book about dream magic. Go figure.

“Well, goodnight, I guess.” With that, Harriet pulled the curtains around her bed firmly shut and set about getting changed quickly before settling into her bed for the night. Dreams of magic and potions filled her mind as she drifted off to sleep finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I contemplated for a good while about adding their first week or at least day of classes as part of this chapter, until I noticed that the document for it was already ridiculously long for my standards. Thus only the sorting for this one lol.
> 
> I bet at least a few of those sortings surprised people lol. Suffice it to say, I have my reasons for the different sortings for Hermione and Ron (mostly to explore different sides of their characters a bit more lol) and they'll have increasing parts in this story in the coming chapters.
> 
> Let me no what you guys think of this chapter in the comments below, I'm always more than happy to read what any of you (so long as it's not something purely negative that in no way suggests a way I can improve my writing in some capacity) have to say or your thoughts on the story. 
> 
> Side note: I've always hated how the fat friar is always refered to by that title and never once is his actual name given, so I've decided to change it up a bit by giving him one based on a 'Robert Stafford' who is mentioned briefly as being the likely inspiration behind a character in the Robinhood legends that was used to likely inspire the fat friar's character. At least that's what the page on him said at the end. I'll also eventually be expanding more on the other ghosts' backstory a bit more than canon just because they've always seemed interesting to me more than just Sir Nicholas. Also, because Harriet's a little weirdo who would totally bother with learning the identities beyond the house ghost's titles just for fun, and it struck me as a worthwhile detail to throw in and expand on lol.


	7. Friends, Ghosts, Bowtruckle attacks, and Bullies scared off- aka, Hogwarts: Day 2

The first thought that entered Harriet’s mind as she woke up the next morning literally at the asscrack of dawn - she checked, the sun was  _ literally _ just peaking over the horizon as her eyes cracked open - was that her brain was a  _ fucking hypocrite _ .

She wasn’t even sure what actually woke her that  _ fine _ (horrible) morning. She’d been having a dream, one of the few decent ones she had over the last few years, about the feast from the night before when suddenly her brain - for some ungodly reason - decided that sunrise was a perfectly lovely time to wake the hell up apparently.

She made an irritated grumble, half muffled by her pillow, before sitting up and blinking away the grime that encrusted itself around her eye overnight. Harriet glanced over at the sight of Kevin, still soundly asleep at this vile hour, laid out across one of her four pillows.

_ ‘Eh, let the tiny bugger get his beauty sleep. At least one of us should be fully rested to endure the day. Just wish it was me.’  _

Harriet reluctantly climbed out of bed and stretched, joints popping back into place with a satisfying sound, before figuring she may as well get ready for the day. A quick shower and changing into a fresh set of clothes did wonders for making someone look ready for the day, even if Harriet was contemplating the legality of stabbing the first person to talk to her with a quill.  _ Looking _ ready most certainly did  _ not _ mean actually  _ being _ ready for the day.

Grabbing the book on advanced Transfiguration theory that she’d been wanting to read, Harriet figured she could at least make good use of her time with a bit of light reading to get her mind caught up with the fact that her body was now, sadly, awake. She headed down the dormitory stairs and into the common room, noting that no one else was up at this ungodly hour, which was honestly pretty understandable, and took a seat on one of the sofas near the fireplace before picking up on the last page she’d stopped on the day before.

She’d become hooked on the subject ever since reading through  _ ‘A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration’ _ and had devoured the book in barely a week before she’d spent the following week begging Aunt Petunia for another trip to Diagon alley so she could pick up more books on the subject.  _ ‘Intermediate Transfiguration’ _ was certainly more complex teachings, and Harriet had struggled briefly in understanding some of it at first, but it had nonetheless proved equally fascinating.

_ ‘Conjuration is among the most advanced forms of Transfiguration that a witch or wizard can perform. The counterpart to Vanishment- that is, to make something go into ‘non-being’, conjuration should only be attempted once the caster has reached their N.E.W.T level of education, though several less complex spells may be taught beforehand…’ _

“Huh. Wonder if conjuration has a fixed period for how long the spell lasts? Vanishment didn’t say anything about that- oh, duh. It’s on the next bloody page. At least the author was competent enough to not put it in a completely different chapter.” Harriet mumbled to herself, only to nearly jump out of her seat as the shadow of Professor Snape fell over her. 

“Professor?! God, I think I get what Draco meant about sneaking up on people that day in the shop.” She muttered the second part to herself quietly, though Snape’s raised brow indicated he heard her perfectly clear.

“Miss Potter, is there a reason you are sitting in the middle of the common room at five thirty on a Saturday morning instead of being in your bed like most children your age should be?” He asked in a dry tone. Harriet just shrugged slightly.

“Not really a specific one, woke up randomly and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Figured I'd get some light reading done and I didn’t want to bother anyone else.” Judging from the look on her head of house’s face, Snape didn’t believe her for a second.

“You’re sitting in an empty common room, because you worry about waking your roommates, by reading a book quietly?” Harriet nodded hesitantly, before letting her shoulders slump in defeat when Snape didn’t seem any closer to believing her.

“Fine. I wanted to be alone for a bit before everyone woke up, okay? Yesterday was a bit more overwhelming to be around so many people than I expected it to be and I needed the space to unwind a bit.”

Snape’s grumpy expression (that Harriet was starting to suspect may just be his natural look) seemed to soften slightly at that. “I see. In that case,” He pulled a small bottle filled with purple liquid from a pocket of his robes before passing it to her. “Dreamless sleep, take it before bed and you’ll-”

“Have an entire night’s sleep without dreaming or waking up before 12 hours.” Harriet quoted, much to Snape’s apparent surprise as she shrugged. “What? I read about it in a potions book over the summer after I finished reading through  _ ‘Magical Draughts and Potions’ _ in a week. Not sure what this’ll do since I’m usually pretty aware of when I’m dreaming, but hopefully it’ll keep me from waking up the moment the sun starts rising first thing in the morning.” Snape’s surprise only seemed to grow slightly as Harriet pocketed the small bottle for now.

“You mean lucid dreaming? The awareness of one’s dreams and the ability, over time, to influence them with your own will.” He explained upon noting Harriet’s slightly confused expression.

“I guess. Though it wasn’t really something I  _ learned _ how to do. It’s always been like that, far as I can remember. Why, is it not that common among wizarding society?” Snape’s face shifted into a slightly amused one.

“It is not. Most wizard’s find they have too much on their minds most of the time to even bother trying to learn how to lucid dream, though I’ve found that being able to do so tends to help one with strengthening any form of Occlumency barriers they may have developed.” Harriet frowned at the term.

“I’ve done a lot of reading about different types of magic over the summer, Professor, but I’ve never heard of Occlumency before.” He hummed quietly.

“I’m not surprised. It’s rarely taught in any institute of magical learning such as Hogwarts, regardless of how helpful the skill can be. Occlumency is the practice of shielding one’s mind, typically from any attempts of Legilimency- the ability of forcibly reading another person’s mind to extract information from them.”

Harriet blinked in surprise. “Wait, wizards can actually do that? Look inside someone’s mind and see whatever the hell they want? That sounds...rather unpleasant, and downright violating now that I think about it. And Occlumency is the only way to keep them out.” At this Snape rolled his eyes.

“Of course not. Occlumency is simply one of the easiest and most reliable ways to keep skilled legilimens out of your mind, though there are several other methods if you know how to pull them off. A number of potions, for example, exist that can shroud the mind in a kind of...fog, for lack of a better word at this unseemly hour.” Huh, guess Snape wasn’t much of a morning person either. Good to know. “A legilimens can’t see anything in your mind if they can’t even see their own hands inside of it. There are also various runic sequences that exist for the sole purpose of making a person’s mind hardy to break into, though such things aren’t taught here until your fifth year. At that point, assuming you’ve chosen Ancient Runes as one of your electives in your third year, a student is permitted to take Advanced Ancient Runic Studies. If they desire that is, though only a handful find the subject interesting enough to stick with it that long.”

Harriet nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. And studying ancient runes is actually a class here? That sounds bloody fascinating.” The smirk was definitely present now on Snape’s face at seeing her enthusiasm for the subject.

“It’s nice to see that at least some members of your year are so serious about their education for a change. Usually I’m forced to deal with a bunch of dunderheads who can’t be bothered to even open their books before the first day of class.” Harriet looked scandalized at the idea.

“But there’s a ton of interesting stuff in all of the books we had to get for class! Hell, the only reason I’m not reading the Transfiguration one right now is because I memorized the bloody thing already and moved on to the next one. Not sure why it’s for third year and up, the idea of using the same book for two years is downright maddening. Though, my cousin tends to disagree with me on the importance of reading ahead in the textbooks. He’s not the most studious person.” Snape raised a brow at that.

“I’m going to assume your cousin was sorted into either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Both houses tend to be the ones filled with the less study minded students.” Harriet nodded.

“He ended up in Gryffindor, which was quite the surprise to me honestly. I figured he'd end up in Hufflepuff for sure. Um, that reminds me of something my Aunt wanted me to look into talking to a staff member about. Is there any chance you could go a bit easy on potions classes that he’s in this year?” If Snape’s brow rose any higher, Harriet was convinced it would merge into the man’s hairline as she tried to explain. 

“It’s just, Dudley’s not studious because he  _ chooses _ not to be, though that might be a bit of the problem. My aunt talked about how studying was harder for him because of something in his head, I think. Dyslexia, she called it. I tried looking into any muggle books about it, though there were surprisingly few in the mental health section of the public library. What I could piece together, not was disturbingly little, is that he has trouble with reading, writing, and overall issues with processing words as a whole.” 

Professor Snape nodded once in understanding. “I see. I will speak to his head of house, Professor McGonagall, about the matter before classes start on Monday. We’ll make sure that the other staff are informed, quietly, about this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention ahead of time, Miss Potter. I have to wonder though as to why Hogwarts did not receive any notice of such a learning disability in advance from the boy’s mother?”

“Aunt Petunia didn’t have much confidence that the wizarding world would have much in place for helping students that might have Dyslexia and similar disabilities. The muggle world is certainly lacking in that regard. She tried arranging for a tutor to try and help Dudley catch up after gaining full custody of us both away from my uncle, but the school refused to believe there was anything wrong with Dudley besides him just being lazy and not doing his work on time.” Snape didn’t seem all that surprised by the fact as he nodded once more.

“I will admit that there isn’t much being done by most wizards to help students with learning disabilities, that much is unfortunately similar enough to the muggle world. What  _ can _ be done however, is that your cousin’s head of house can at least arrange for a tutor if he develops the need for one. I will also make sure that, at least in Potions class, he receives any additional help he may require.” Harriet offered a relieved smile.

“Thank you, Professor. Dudley may be insufferable at times, but he’s still family. I want him to not have as hard a time with getting a decent education then we both did at our old primary school.”

“It’s no trouble, Miss Potter. My job is to help any students who may need it when it comes to their schoolwork, regardless of house. I will make sure the arrangements are handled, with discretion of course.” With that, Professor Snape turned on his heel and headed towards the side door from the night before, only pausing briefly to utter “And ten points to Slytherin. For aiding another student, regardless of house.” Harriet couldn’t help but snort at that before frowning slightly.

She hoped that Hogwarts really would be different from St. Grogory’s. So far, Dudley and her had already met several students in their year who seemed to want to befriend them, and Snape had said that he would talk to the staff about helping her cousin stay ahead in his work, but at this point Harriet wasn’t certain how much trust she could afford to put in anything yet.

* * *

By the time Seven thirty rolled around and the rest of Slytherin house finally woke up, Harriet had already returned to the dorm room briefly to deposit the bottle of dreamless sleep in her nightstand’s drawer and to switch her Transfiguration book out for one that detailed more advanced charms before retaking her seat on the sofa she had claimed for the morning.

“There you are! What happened to you not being a morning person apparently?” Pansy exclaimed as the rest of her roommates joined the rest of the house in the common room.

Harriet snorted in amusement as Kevin leaped off of the back of Pansy’s arm and into his owner’s hair, much to Daphne’s amusement and Pansy’s own confusion.

“Wait, how did I not notice he was clinging to me this whole time to escape the room?” Harriet shook her head in exasperation.

“Because he’s a sneaky little pest who likes acting like the world’s tiniest ninja. Also, I most certainly did  _ not _ plan to be up so damn early. Woke up around dawn and couldn’t get to sleep again, so I came down here to do a bit of reading.” 

“Maybe it’s just because you’re in a different place from what you’re used to? New bed and all that? And you just have to acclimate to the different environment.”Tracey Davis suggested. 

Harriet shrugged. “Maybe. Certainly ruins my plans for sleeping in this weekend though. Oh, and when do we leave for breakfast? I’m starving at this point.” Pansy and Daphne both groaned at that, though Harriet’s question was soon answered as the house departed a few minutes later and the prefects took up the job of pointing out different points of reference to their year to help avoid getting lost on the way back to the dungeons.

Upon entering the Great Hall for breakfast, Harriet was a bit surprised to see the room was almost completely empty outside of a few Ravenclaws that seemed to be reading/studying while picking at bites of their food, a small number of Hufflepuff’s that looked barely awake, and only one Gryffindor sitting alone at this early point of the morning.

The moment that it clicked that said Gryffindor was actually Dudley of all people, Harriet couldn’t help but smile and started walking over to her cousin.

“Up before noon on a Saturday? You feeling alright Dudley, or is your entire house already driving you crazy?” She commented as the boy in question turned away from his own breakfast to give her an unamused frown.

“Yeah yeah, very funny. For your information, I’ve barely said two words to anyone in Gryffindor- not that anyone’s seemed to notice I was even there once the feast ended. So no, the insanity hasn’t had a chance to kick in yet, though the other guys in the house can be rather heavy with the snoring. I came down here a bit early when I couldn’t take it anymore. You on the other hand, I’m more surprised are even awake at all after yesterday’s exhausting events.”

Harriet rolled her eyes before taking the seat next to Dudley with a huff. “Couldn’t sleep that well either. Seems like Hogwarts likes the idea of turning me into an insomniac or, god forbid, a  _ morning person _ .” She shuddered in exaggerated horror, even as Dudley chuckled at her. “Plus Professor Snape, Slytherin’s head of house, has a rule in place about the entire house having to be up by seven thirty outside of the weekend. Apparently everyone else thought it was a good idea to start sticking to that rule the first day though, Saturday be damned.”

Dudley was about to laugh when a shadow fell over them both, and Harriet realized someone was standing behind her. She turned to face them, noting that it was a boy (Gryffindor, judging from the red and gold tie that Dudley similarly had loosely around his neck) that looked to be slightly older than them, maybe a second or third year at most. He stood glaring at her for nearly a minute before Harriet raised a brow.

“Was there something you wanted to actually  _ say _ ? Or are you gonna keep standing there like a statue?” She asked, much to the boy’s anger judging from the shade of red his face was slowly turning.

“This is the Gryffindor table, snakes like you don’t belong here. Why don’t you go slithering back to where you belong with the other Slytherins. Or are you that desperate to find followers that you’d try befriending chubby here and that you can’t wait one day without trying to lure him away from his house?” He bit out as Harriet raised a brow.

“Apologies, but I didn’t quite catch your name?” The boy looked confused by her question as he stuttered slightly.

“C-Cormac. Cormac McLaggen. And you still don’t belong here,  _ snake _ .” Harriet tilted her head slightly before offering her hand to the boy to shake, much to his growing confusion.

“Well, Cormac,” The moment his hand was in her grip, Harriet twisted it around firmly, just short of what she knew was the point where his wrist would dislocate if turned any further, not that anyone would see it from that angle besides Dudley. ‘Cormac’ gasped in pain almost instantly as she looked him in the eye. “I think you should learn to mind your manners for a change. Especially when you go about insulting my cousin right in front of me.” McLaggen’s eyes widened slightly in growing fear.

“See, Cormac, I really don’t like it when people mock my family members, especially when I know for a fact that Dudley didn’t do a damn thing to you to earn being mocked by a petty little bully like you.” She let go of the boy’s hand as he fell flat on the ground in a huff.

“Miss Potter!” Came the familiar voice of Professor McGonagall as the woman walked briskly over to where she and Dudley were sitting. “What on Earth do you think you’re doing?! Starting fights on the first day and attacking students-”

“She didn’t do anything wrong!” Dudley interrupted, much to the surprise of everyone involved. “Cormac was saying a bunch of rude things to both of us and Harriet tried pushing him away when he wouldn’t stop standing right over her.” McGonagall turned her glare to McLaggen.

“Is this true?” Cormac could only sputter while trying to come up with an excuse, not that McGonagall was interested in hearing it. “Five points from Gryffindor for bullying another student, and you’ve just earned yourself your first detention of the year McLaggen. A new record for you, I believe. Now I suggest you walk away and leave Miss Potter and her cousin to their breakfast. That is, after all, the purpose for everyone in this hall right now.” 

Cormac was quick to scurry off (like a rat, Harriet couldn’t help but think), as McGonagall turned back to the head table. Dudley bumped his shoulder against hers as Harriet finally started piling a plate full of breakfast for herself. “Thanks, you didn’t have to stand up for me against that idiot.” 

Harriet shrugged. “Oh yes I did. Pricks like him need to get stopped in their tracks firmly if you want their bullying to stop. Strength and fear are the only ways that effectively work on people like him. I may not be big and strong like you, but I know how to be scary at least. Next rude comment that comes out of his mouth, I’m casting a cutting hex at his balls, so help me!” Dudley’s face paled slightly at the thought, though he couldn’t help but grin slightly after a few seconds.

“So I’m the muscles of the two of us and you're the one who scares the unholy hell out of everyone? Somehow, I think I can live with that arrangement.” 

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Hey, that’s easy for you to say. When you’re less than five feet tall, you have to work with what you’ve got. Scary, I’ve got plenty of. Just keep in mind that you get to hold Cormac in a chokehold when I actually try to cut off his balls so I don’t miss. I’d hate to have to waste more magic than absolutely necessary on someone like him.” 

“I’m starting to agree with mum when it comes to you, your language is horrible sometimes Harriet.” She just raised a brow.

“Aunt Petunia has only herself to blame for that. Most of the swears I’ve learned were from her and directed at Vernon a few months ago. Quite educational really, she could write a book on the subject with all she knows.” Dudley just stared at her with an equal mix of shock and slight horror at that fact.

“Please don’t give her any ideas. Mum already has way too much free time on her hands, she may actually write that book if you plant the idea in her head.”

“Potter!” Pansy shouted from the Slytherin table, and Harriet blinked in surprise at the site of Kevin sitting on her shoulder trying to tear out a lock of the girl’s hair. “Get over here and handle your pet before I torch the bloody thing!” 

“Ah shite. Gotta go, stay out of trouble before noon at least Dudley. Kevin!” Harriet hurried over to the Slytherin table, much to Dudley’s amusement before he turned back to his food.

“How many times do I have to - ow! Stop biting me you little bastard! - stop pulling out people’s hair! I thought you were in my sleeve this whole time napping?” After carefully prying the annoyed Bowtruckle from Pansy’s hair, and getting a bite mark indented into her left thumb for the trouble, Harriet finally wrestled the irate creature back into her sleeve. Kevin just chattered in an irritated sounding tone.

“Sorry about that, could have sworn he was still with me this whole time. I swear Kevin spends his free time trying to come up with new ways of causing trouble when he’s bored.” Pansy shot an annoyed glare at her before resuming trying to fix her hair after the Bowtruckle’s attack.

“Your pet is a bloody menace Potter! Find a bloody leash for it or something. Next time I’m stunning the thing and tossing him out the nearest window!”

Blaise and Draco finally calmed down, having spent the last several minutes of ‘Attack of the Bowtruckle’ - as that morning would become known remembered by - laughing hysterically at their friend’s expense.

“Real nice you two. Good to know who I should jinx next time I’m in a bad mood.” Pansy scowled, even as Harriet started walking towards the doors of the Great Hall.

“Let me know when you’re about to do it and I’ll bring snacks for the show. Until then, I’ll be in the library ‘till around lunch. Bye!” Harriet had to duck the piece of bacon tossed her way by a betrayed looking Draco while the site of Pansy smirking evilly at poor Blaise was one that she’d be committing to memory for the next time she needed a laugh. 

Blaise made the funniest frightened expressions it turned out.

After tracking down the library, through a combined effort of asking the annoyingly vague portraits who were little actual help and eventually bumping into the ghost of Vlad Leon, aka the Bloody Baron, who actually  _ was _ helpful.

“Ah, the young snake who shares the same love of knowledge that Rowena Ravenclaw did in life. Imagine my surprise to find you sorted into my old house instead of hers.” Vlad offered a smug grin upon noticing her annoyed glare directed at yet another useless painting.

Harriet in turned offered a shrug. “People always act surprised that snakes can like learning as much as any Eagle. Bloody morons are too obsessed with their stereotypes. Any chance you can point me in the direction of the library, Vlad? These bloody paintings are less helpful then paint on glass- they make the architecture look nice, but are both ultimately pointless.” The ghost let out a raspy laugh at her snide comment before nodding.

“I’d be happy to show you the way, young snake. So long as you do mind the company of an old murderer’s spirit along the way.” Harriet shook her head.

“Not in the slightest. Surprisingly not the first time I’ve walked and chatted with a ghostly killer, so it’s hardly new for me. Lead on, good Baron.”

“Ah! I see that the castle is home to another Mistress of the Grim One, as we ghosts refer to  _ him _ . Suddenly, the uniqueness that you radiate makes perfect sense with that bit of information. You, I suspect, are going to make things very interesting in the future little snake. I look forward to seeing it all.” Harriet snorted at his pleased grin.

“You’re just hoping something exciting happens for a change. It must be boring to exist in a dreary old castle for roughly a thousand years. And agonizing to see Helena all this time after what happened.” The Baron stared at her in surprise.

“You seem to know an awful great deal about history that so few have disturbed in centuries. History I know that the Grim one would not have shared with you at this point. How is that, I wonder?” Harriet shrugged one shoulder slightly as she continued to walk next to the specter.

“I know a lot of things old grim wouldn’t want me to know yet. I’m an easily bored eleven year old who figured out inside of two weeks the best places to find the good history books in Diagon alley. It was surprisingly easy, not gonna lie. I know that Salazar Slytherin was a greatly misunderstood person whose actions are often removed from the context of the witch burnings that were occurring at the time.” She informed the spirit, who nodded along. 

“I know that Helena wasn’t the woman you loved for romantic reasons so much as she was secretly the half-sister you tried to keep safe, even if she never learned of that fact from either you or her mother. I also know that you’re the ancestor to the man that History will forever call Vlad the Impaler, by about a dozen generations or so and that his vampirism brought shame to the history of your family from that day on.”

“Very astute. Ah, and this marks the end of our enlightening chat, little snake. It’s been a pleasure.” Harriet tilted her head forward slightly.

“Indeed it has, Baron. We’ll have to meet up again on the 13th of February for another such chat. Make your deathday something to look forward to for a change instead of contemplating if you should throw yourself off the astronomy tower in the hopes that your spirit will be dragged to hell, or whatever it is you do up there every year.” The Baron gave another chuckle, his surprise at her knowing the day of his death from memory well hidden if it was there at all.

“Oh, and if I were you, I’d tell Helena the truth. She’s your sister, and you shouldn’t have to exist in this sorry state if you have the chance to try and patch things up. Shine some light on the parts of your story that history got so wrong for so long. Being alone helps no one when you’ve got family to be around instead.” 

The ghost gave a slight nod. “I’ll think about it, at least. A thousand years is an eternity to beg forgiveness for, even to a ghost.” With that, he drifted through a wall and vanished as Harriet shook her head in exasperation at stubborn ghosts before walking into the library.

_ ‘Now then, where are the books on ancient runes? Snape said they could do just about everything, and that sounds damn useful to learn about ahead of time.’ _ She mused before walking over to where the librarian, Madam Pince was sitting behind her desk.

“A first year voluntarily spending time in the library on the first day? That makes two of you already and it’s only just after breakfast.” Madam Pince commented upon glancing up at the sound of Harriet’s approach.

Harriet nodded. “What can I say? I like reading a lot in my free time, and a giant library full of books on different kinds of magic and magical history has me looking to get started early. Are there any books on ancient runes by any chance?” 

“Ah, a fellow academic I see. Yes, I think there are quite a few somewhere, should be near the section on ancient languages.” Harriet followed Madam Pince as she showed her to the section in question. If Harriet had started salivating slightly at the sight of so many books on just this one subject, well, no one else was around to confirm that fact as the older witch left her to her research with the warning that any damaged books will be compensated with her hide.

Not that Harriet had any intention of damaging the ancient looking books.

Grabbing one at random, she noted the title ‘A Guide to Ancient Runic Languages’ and immediately tucked it under her arm as she scurried off to find the furthest table from the front of the library where she settled in to start reading.

“Excuse me? Is this seat already taken?” A voice pulled her attention away from the book, only for Harriet to flinch slightly at the crick in her neck from what a quick check of her watch revealed had been a four hour reading break.

_ ‘Huh. Stiff neck us usually a five hour side effect. Must be from the lack of sleep or something.’ _

Noting the girl who stood in front of her, Harriet shook her head slightly, before turning her neck to work out the kink. “No, go right ahead. I was just doing a bit of reading myself.” The girl smiled in relief before taking the offered seat.

“I’m Hermione by the way, Hermione-”

“Granger. I know, I remember your name from the sorting last night. Hufflepuff right? Well, I guess that yellow and black striped tie should be a pretty big clue that, yes, you’re in Hufflepuff. Unless you’re someone else using polyjuice to disguise yourself as Hermione and have killed her and stashed her corpse somewhere.” Harriet stated, much to Hermione’s bewilderment.

“Uh-” Harriet flushed.

“Sorry, tend to ramble about disturbing things from time to time when they pop into my head. Suffice it to say that I just have a really good memory and let’s leave it at that. Name’s Harriet by the way, Harriet Potter.” 

Hermione chuckled hesitantly. “I know who you are, heck most of the wizarding world knows your name. You defeated You-Know-Who as a baby! You’re pretty much a celebrity!” Harriet rolled her eyes at that, much to the other girl’s confusion.

“I don’t care about that. Being famous is about as important to me as spots are on a Zebra. All for something that happened when I was an infant and that left me an orphan? Yes, I really want that to be what marks me down in the history books.” She muttered.

“I didn’t mean it like that! When you put it that way it was rather insensitive of me, sorry.” Harriet brushed off her concern.

“Relax, Granger. I’m just messing with you a bit. I just honestly don’t care all that much about what happened that night is all, and I’d rather not be reminded of it everyday, okay?” Hermione nodded before her mouth tilted down into a confused frown.

“Okay. Um, by the way, what’s Polyjuice potion? I haven’t read about that in our textbook at all.” Harriet grinned.

“Because it’s not in the basic one. I got a bunch of more advanced books on different subjects that were interesting: Potions, Transfiguration, history, Magical creatures, etc. One of the more advanced Potions books that I read talked about the Polyjuice Potion. Mostly it’s used for disguise and infiltration since it let’s you assume the appearance of a different person for an hour per dose, though some people have been known to use it to prank each other.” By the time Madame Pince had shooed them out of the library around noon for lunch, Harriet and Hermione had spent nearly an hour discussing different advanced potions.

“I still fail to see how a book that teaches about potions like Polyjuice can also go on for six pages about a potion that makes people utterly irrational for up to twelve hours to the point that others consider them mentally insane.” Hermione insisted, much to Harriet’s growing amusement as they walked into the Great Hall together.

“That’s wizards for you I guess. Never trust or expect them to do something reasonable like properly group potions together by their difficulty instead of the ingredients used. Seriously, Polyjuice involves a month long brewing process and over two dozen ingredients to make properly, yet is deemed an equal challenge to whipping up an essence of insanity made up of six ingredients and can be finished in twenty minutes? It’s ridiculous to me. Oh, you want to sit over at Slytherin for lunch? Draco would probably love to pick your brain for anything potions related. I can only have so many conversations about the same topic before I go crazy, and Draco would insist on at least 20 in the next hour.” Harriet offered.

Hermione seemed to hesitate for a brief second before squaring her shoulders and nodding firmly. “Why not? The last hour was probably the most interesting conversation I’ve been in since finding out magic was real. Lead the way, I don’t want to accidentally sit at the wrong part of the table or with the wrong group or anything.” Harriet snorted.

“No worries about that. Most of the Slytherins only eat new Gryffindors for sitting anywhere near them. Hufflepuff should mean your safe.” Hermione rolled her eyes slightly before taking the seat to Harriet’s right as she sat next to Pansy who gawked at them both.

“Really Potter? First half of Breakfast it was the Gryffindors, and now you’re inviting puffs to our table?” Harriet shrugged.

“Yep. Hermione’s got a hell of a brain when it comes to magic and she’s not overly irritating like most people. Thus she can sit here if she wants as far as I’m concerned. Inter-House unity and all that. Besides, I don’t have enough patience to put up with Draco’s rants about potions anymore today, and Hermione knows just about everything about the subject that she could squeeze out of our textbook for the year.”

Draco seemed to want to complain about the arrangement, until Harriet glared at him murderously enough for the boy to turn even more pale before he firmly kept his opinion on the matter to himself.

“No objections? Yay, that means I can focus on food instead.” Kevin picked that moment, having spent the time in the library napping in her sleeve, to chatter in agreement. Harriet just rolled her eyes before holding a blueberry near the end of her sleeve that the Bowtruckle snatched up happily.

“Thank god it’s not just bugs they like to eat like some books insist. No way in hell I’m dealing with a bunch of woodlice everyday.” She muttered as Hermione and Draco fell into a discussion on the properties of the Forgetfulness Potion.

“They’re gonna be impossible to deal with from now on, won’t they?” Blaise whispered to Pansy, who snickered in agreement.

“And it’s Potter here’s fault. At least none of us are going to be able to fail Potions class anytime soon between the two of them and Harriet going on about it every five minutes.” Harriet responded by maturely sticking her tongue out at the girl before turning back to the book she’d checked out from the library on runic languages.

_ ‘The nature of the language holds great influence over the strength of the sequence used. Where one language may cause a particular runic sequence to shield against something, the same sequence formed with an entirely different language can instead lead to it destroying the object in question…’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First full day at Hogwarts and Harriet's already made a friend in Hermione, I'm so proud of the little antisocial hermit lol. And yes, in case it's not clear, I hold deep hatred for McLaggen's character overall and any scene he shows up in the future will usually have Harriet or one of his friends putting the fear of Death into him lol.
> 
> As with the Fat Friar, the Bloody Baron get's some more backstory and changes from canon lol. It's a personal headcanon of mine that he's in some way a distant (like, 400 years distant) ancestor of Vlad the Impaler. Plus I thought it'd be an interesting twist for the reason that he relentlessly pursued Helena all the way to Albania, wasn't because he was in love with her but rather that they were secretly half-siblings through Rowena who gave up her son to a distant family friend that couldn't have kids themselves (or something like that, Idk. Still have to flesh that bit out more and it came to me out of nowhere lol), and that being the reason he would go to such lengths to bring Helena back home to her ill mother.
> 
> Also, just making it clear now: I don't personally have Dyslexia, not do I claim to be an expert on it in any way. I'm incorporating it into Dudley's character as I try to research a bit more about it as I go. I've never really liked how in canon Dudley's just passed off as being an idiot who can't apply himself in school to save his life. Thus I decided to have it where he's Dyslexic and that is partly the reason he's struggled in school up to this point, though a bit of it does have to do with him having a lazy side at times, which doesn't make things easier for him. Add in unhelpful staff at the primary school who didn't want to bother giving him the support he definitely needed those first few years in school, and it's reasonable for Dudley to not be nearly as into schoolwork as Harriet is. If anything seems in anyway factually incorrect, please let me know and how I can improve it. Dudley's character as a whole in this story is an entirely different thing that I'm expanding and working out the details of, and it is it's own daunting sort of task for me to pull off.


	8. First Day of Lessons: Transfiguration and History of Magic

After a weekend spent cycling from the Common room, to the Great Hall for meals, and to the library to find more books to read up on various magical branches she hadn’t even known  _ existed _ , it was safe to say that the morning of their first classes left Harriet in a mild state of anxiety.

_ ‘What if the Professor’s try to quiz us on stuff we’re expected to have learned growing up? All I know is stuff from books! Are they going to think I’m useless like the staff at primary school? Are we going to be expected to work with partners? Shite, I’m going to have to actually  _ **_talk_ ** _ to other people and be expected to socialize, aren’t I?! Maybe it would have been better to just fucking homeschool me or something instead. Boarding school my ass, who thinks an introvert who’s never been able to make friends is going to thrive in this kind of environment? What was aunt Petunia thinking?! It’s statistically improbable that socially mal-adjusted children in my age group are anywhere near as capable of fitting in as easily as the socially adjusted ones. Wait- should probably not talk like that when I’m actually in class. Hermione said complicated sentences make others think you’re a ‘know-it-all’. Screw it, I’d rather be called that then freeze up in front of everyone or stutter and look like a brainless twit! I wonder what’s for lunch today- NOT NOW BRAIN! Focus!’ _

Harriet was broken out of her internal breakfast time panic of the day by a sharp jab to her neck, and she glared down at Kevin who just shot her a chastising look. “Right. Analyze the situation to figure out if any of that mental vomit has an actual possibility of occurring. Thanks for that reminder Kevin.” Kevin blinked once before slapping his twig-like hand over his face at her words and let out an annoyed grumble.

“What? Too complex thinking?” Confirmative chattering. “Sorry, reflex at this point. Got to work on that probably.” Harriet muttered, only to flinch slightly at the annoyed jab to her neck again.

“Um, why does Kevin look likes he’s either contemplating suicide or strangling you?” Pansy questioned as the rest of the Slytherins started pouring into the Great Hall. “And why did you come here by yourself? You know Snape said to always try to avoid walking around alone.”

Harriet rolled her eye slightly before snorting quietly. “Because Kevin’s an overdramatic little prick sometimes who finds my nerd rambling exhausting apparently. Also I think I’ll be fine from the other houses, for a little while at least. Ravenclaws don’t bother picking fights outside of arguing with each other, I’ve already somewhat befriended a Badger - that apparently means I’m not evil to the rest of them, I guess? I don't know, Hermione was a bit vague on that explanation yesterday - and they're a bit too nice to strike first against anyone, at least the ones in our year, being eleven and all that. Plus the Gryffindors, minus my cousin, are all kinda scared of me after I taught Cormac a lesson two days ago about minding his manners when talking to others.”

It was Pansy’s turn to snort at her explanation. “Good to know that your way of teaching manners can be summed up to threatening to snap someone’s wrist out of its socket. Remind me to never shake hands with you when you’re in a bad mood. Oh, Snape already handed out your schedule? What have we got to endure first this year?” She added upon noticing the piece of parchment to the left of Harriet’s plate that had ‘Schedule’ in fancy, and rather tiny, handwriting. 

“Transfiguration and History of magic, with Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively, today. Herbology and charms tomorrow, both with Ravenclaw. Wednesday’s we’ve got Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Flying Lessons to cap off the afternoon- All with Gryffindor so that should be fun and oh so exciting.” Harriet rolled her eye slightly at the idea, much to Pansy’s amusement who snickered. 

“Thursday's are back to back charms in the morning with Herbology again to unwind in the afternoon by trying to avoid getting strangled by killer plants. Sounds fun. Friday is a bit more packed with Double Potions in the morning, Transfiguration and History of magic again in the afternoon. Wednesday’s gonna be a bitch with that many lions for so bloody long, but at least it starts off with an easy Potions class before the madness begins fully. Everything else is fairly manageable.”

Pansy stared at her in slight horror before shaking herself free of the shock. “Only you would consider any of that  _ easy _ , and Wednesday sounds more like a nightmare than just an irritating annoyance like you seem to think it’ll be. Also, how the bloody hell did you memorize the schedule so fast?! Snape was only a minute ahead of us at most, you couldn’t have had much time to even glance over it let alone commit anything to memory.” 

Harriet shrugged. “What can I say? I have a really good memory and I can read over things wicked fast. Not sure why, just do.” 

That was a boldfaced lie, and Harriet knew it. Not that it would exactly be  _ easy _ to have to explain that years of being locked in a cupboard under the stairs by uncle Vernon for days at a time with nothing but the books her aunt had snuck between the thin mattress she’d been forced to call a bed to keep her from getting too bored. It didn’t take long for her to savor the words on the pages that Petunia had secretly taught her in the dead of night how to put together properly in her head after Vernon had finally passed out from drinking. All of that had collectively led to Harriet having an above average memory and reading level. 

Nor did Harriet have any intention to go into that reason in the middle of the Great Hall surrounded by her housemates, none of which she was fully sure could be considered actual friends yet, let alone trust.

_ ‘Better to play oblivious with it then. Makes people less likely to look at me with false pity and acting like they give two shits about me and what’s firmly in the past.’ _

Pansy nodded along, though a small frown was on her face. “Fair enough. You certainly have a lot of odd habits that are sure to make acing all our classes easy as cake for you. Kinda jealous, not gonna lie.” Harriet spluttered.

“Why in the world would you be jealous of  _ me _ ?! For a photographic memory that makes it almost impossible to forget anything? Do you realize the things I’ve  _ heard _ that will forever echo in my skull, haunting me to the grave?” She gave a shudder at the thought, and it didn’t even have to be faked. There  _ were _ some things in life a child barely past her seventh birthday should  _ never _ have to suffer through listening to in the dead of night.

Pansy grimaced at that thought, though Harriet had a feeling the other girl’s thoughts weren’t nearly as graphic or disturbing as the real reason for Harriet’s negative view of her own memory skills.

“Okay, good point. Now that you mention it, there are definitely a good number of negatives to having such a strong memory. Though school properly counts as a positive, right?”

Not to Harriet herself, who could clearly recall every moment that a teacher had sneered in contempt at her and shaken their head while ignoring her attempts at explaining why her homework was always filled out incorrectly or turned in late, if at all. How no one seemed to have noticed that her actual, in-class work always had a visibly different handwriting to the nearly illegible chicken scratch of her uncle’s falsified answers he filled in after confiscating her homework the moment she brought any home. 

Anything the man could do to make his own son look like the smarter of the two, not that any of it was actually Dudley’s fault. 

Harriet didn’t mention a word of those thoughts however, and just nodded along in agreement with Pansy. “Yep. Comes in handy for that I guess. We should probably get going though, class starts in 15 minutes and Transfiguration is on an entirely different floor. I’d hate to be late on the first day, McGonagall seems rather strict when it comes to any sort of rule.”

Pansy nodded in agreement, being the only one of their group besides Harriet herself to be finished with their breakfast already, and stood to walk to class with her.

“You know,” Pansy spoke up a few minutes later and Harriet glanced at the girl on her right. “I’ve never seen someone lie as much as you do, Potter.” Harriet felt her blood chill slightly before she had to work to keep her voice level as she responded.

“Not sure what you mean by that.” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Leaving out details then, whatever you want to call it. I’m sure you probably have your reasons for not wanting anyone to know, and I get the feeling it’s connected to that stone eye you seem hellbent on keeping covered up with your hair so no one notices it.”

_ ‘Dammit!’ _ “Huh. figured I was being more subtle with that one.” Pansy snickered.

“Oh you were, I doubt anyone else has noticed yet. But when you’re raised your entire life in pure-blood society and taught to pay attention to slight details like that, it can become a force of habit. The other pure-bloods likely are either too lazy to bother with a random first year or haven’t spent enough time around you yet. And Draco’s too thick skulled about anything that involves interacting with girls his own age to piece anything too complicated together.” Harriet nodded in understanding.

“Fair enough. So what do you plan on doing about it? Gonna try and figure out all my secrets or something? Blackmail me about any suspicious details about my past you figure out?” Pansy looked almost offended at the idea of doing so.

“No! I can be somewhat mean, but I’m not  _ that _ mean, dammit Potter you make it sound like I’m looking to ruin people’s lives for a living or something.” Harriet blinked owlishly.

“Oh. Sorry then. Being suspicious about other people is kind of a reflex at this point.” 

Pansy snorted slightly at that. “I don’t blame you for it. If my hunch is right, and it’s rarely wrong mind you, then you have more than enough reasons to not trust people to be honest with you. And you don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to, we’re all entitled to keeping our skeletons locked firmly in the closet. But I do want to try and be friends with you, and friends talk to each other about stuff.” She paused briefly before shaking her head in exasperation. 

“Merlin, that sounded kinda hypocritical. ‘You don’t have to talk to me about your secrets if you don’t want to, but I’d like to be friends who talk about secrets?’ Smooth Parkinson, that’s how to really make friends.” Pansy rolled her eyes even as Harriet couldn’t help giggling a bit before shaking her head lightly.

“Better than any of my past attempts to make friends. You didn’t get laughed at in front of a bunch of people before you even said two words.” Pansy scowled.

“You literally just laughed at me! How is that different exactly?” Harriet raised a brow in challenge.

“Want me to make it the same by going back to the Great Hall and I can laugh loudly and mockingly at you instead of teasing you slightly for arguing with yourself?” 

Pansy held up her hands in defeat. “No no, that’s not necessary Potter.” Harriet rolled her eyes.

“If we’re going to be friends then just stick to using my first name. Potter makes me sound all official and fancy, which, ew. No thanks.” Pansy blinked in surprise.

“Wait, you actually want to be friends with me? After I made myself sound like an idiot not two minutes ago?” Harriet nodded and gave a half shrug as the pair neared the door to the Transfiguration classroom finally.

“Sure. Why the hell not? You don’t strike me as the ‘serial killer’ type, and my aunt  _ did _ say to try and make more friends this year. Hope you don’t mind sharing that title with Hermione though, she kinda beat you to it with her general nerdiness and bookworm tendencies.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed sarcastically. “Of course I’m beaten to the punch in making friends with someone by a damn Hufflepuff. At least it wasn’t a Ravenclaw, my pride wouldn’t survive  _ that _ .”

Both girl’s broke down into quiet fits of laughter, even as the door to Transfiguration swung open to greet them. Both were quick to quiet down as they walked into the classroom, McGonagall standing behind her desk and writing what Harriet recognized as the transfiguration formula on the blackboard.

“Ah, Miss Potter, Miss Parkinson. Punctual already I see. Just take a seat anywhere you like while we await the rest of today’s class. You’re both a tad early.”

Harriet had to drag Pansy with her to the front row of seats, much to the girl’s slight annoyance at not being able to sit towards the back.

“I don’t want to be front and center!” She hissed quietly, which Harriet found amusing. “I’ve tried practicing Transfiguration over the summer, I suck at it! I’m blaming you if I cost our house any points because you wanted a front row seat for some ungodly reason.” 

Harriet rolled her eye. “Transfiguration Isn't that hard! Plus we’ll probably just be doing theory for a while and then going into easy spells. Besides, of the two of us, I thought  _ I _ was the one who didn’t like being in the middle of any attention?”

“Yet another reason why I fail to understand your reason for putting us in front of the teacher’s  _ bloody _ desk!” Professor McGonagall glanced up from her desk briefly with a slightly chastising frown at Pansy’s language but didn’t verbally rebuke her at least as the rest of the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs started pouring into the classroom.

The first thirty minutes of class, as Harriet had guessed, was spent taking notes on the Transfiguration formula and the transfiguration alphabet. Then they were each given a couple of matches and taught about the spell to transfigure them into needles.

Harriet waved her wand through the familiar motion, and couldn’t help but grin slightly as her match turned into a perfect needle on the first try. Professor McGonagall seemed to have noticed as well, judging by the pleased look she gave Harriet.

“Excellent work, Miss Potter. Take 3 points for managing it on the first attempt. For the rest of the class I want you to work on adding as much additional detail to it as you can.” Harriet nodded before turning back to her needle as Hermione pulled off the spell on her second try, earning Hufflepuff 2 points. Pansy, to her own surprise, only took three tries to get her match to fully change.

“Huh. That was a lot easier than last time I tried it. The needle was still mostly wood on the inside before.” She muttered to herself as Harriet set to work adding small swirls around her own needle.

By the time class was over and McGonagall asked them all to bring up their attempts, Harriet had, to the bewilderment of Hermione and Pansy both, managed to turn the small swirls into tiny snake etchings. Turning them green may have been a bit cheeky, and technically considered charms instead of Transfiguration but she’d finished with the snakes themselves with five minutes to spare and had been bored.

Professor McGonagall had a look of pure shock on her face. “Miss Potter! This is far more than I was expecting when I said to work on adding detail! It seems you’ve inherited your father’s natural talent for Transfiguration. Take another ten points for Slytherin house.”

Harriet couldn’t help the light blush at the praise as she caught up with both of her friends who were waiting just outside the doorway.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of McGonagall giving so many points to our house on the first day, let alone in one class.” Pansy remarked, which did nothing for Harriet’s embarrassment.

“Guess it just means Slytherin can expect another easy House cup win this year, for the eighth year in a row. Sorry Granger, but you’re gonna have some hard competition for top of our class with this one at least.” Pansy teased. Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, but the small smile took any real annoyance she may have expressed out of it.

“We’ll see. It’s still only the first day of class, and who knows if the Transfiguration prodigy here is as skilled in our other classes. If that’s the case, then maybe I’ll start worrying.”

“If you two are  _ done _ . We can meet up and compare classes at lunch Hermione, try not to make enemies of the Ravenclaws too soon, they tend to be protective of their status in class and whatnot. We’ve got History of Magic right now, and that’s up another two floors.” After bidding the bushy haired girl goodbye, Harriet proceeded to once against drag Pansy by the arm to the next class.

“I’m not a dog you know? I am capable of finding my way without being guided around. Also, History of Magic apparently sucks anyways since it’s taught by the most boring ghost ever, so who cares if we’re late or even bother showing up. Binn’s never shuts up about Goblin wars, or talks in any tone other than one dreary enough to make Snape sound hyper and excitable.” Pansy paused at that before giving a slight shudder in horror. “God that just made the most disturbing mental image ever. Snape? Hyper or energetic? If we ever witness that, kindly kill me please. The ensuing trauma is most definitely not worth it.”

Harriet couldn’t help the chuckle that came up at her friend’s antics.

“Deal, though a bit overly dramatic don’t you think?” 

Draco, who Harriet hadn’t even noticed was only a few feet behind them, bumped her shoulder with a fearful look on his face. “Never tell Pansy she’s being over dramatic about anything! Our lives would be in danger for the next week. Besides, she’s not wrong. Binns has to be the worst teacher this school ever put in the role according to my father. And that’s on top of the fact that there hasn’t been a Defense teacher who’s lasted more than a year in the last couple of decades at least.”

“Right, I read that the job is thought to be jinxed or something. Wonder why no one’s thought to bring in a couple of curse breakers or something to at least check. Haven’t some teachers who tried to fill the role been seriously injured or even killed? Doesn’t seem very safe to me.”

Draco scoffed. “Hogwarts doesn’t exactly have a history of competent headmasters the last few centuries, though that might be because the one before Dumbledore had the job for nearly a hundred years by himself- he was kind of useless from what I’ve heard. And Dumbledore’s no better, worst thing to happen to Hogwarts in my father’s opinion.” 

Harriet couldn’t stop her eye from rolling. “Well I’d like to see your father manage a couple hundred kids for nine months of the year for thirty or so years Draco. Can’t be an easy job, and Dumbledore can’t be that bad, least no one’s gotten killed yet this year.”

Pansy frowned slightly. “Harriet, it’s the third day of term. If someone got killed that early, I think we should all be worried for our safety. Plus, why even mention that? Are you  _ actually _ expecting a murder already or something?” Harriet shrugged lightly.

“Expecting? Not necessarily, no. But it would certainly make things interesting to try and figure out a murder mystery.” Draco literally facepalmed at that, and was slightly surprised to notice a similar sound coming from Harriet’s sleeve- likely Kevin mirroring him, much to his owner’s annoyance.

“You’re insane Potter, I swear. If you’ve jinxed us and someone ends up dead, I’m hexing you for it.” He warned as they walked into the History of magic classroom.

What should have been one of her favorite classes of the year, quickly turned into her least favorite, the moment Binns’ actually started teaching. The ghost somehow made the violent beheading of one of the Goblin Nation’s most historic kings sound as dull an event as watching paint drying. By the end of the hour, Harriet was contemplating murdering the ghost for a second time, somehow.

“Need to find a book on exorcisms or something. No way in hell I’m sitting through a minimum of five years of that bull- ow! Stop jabbing me already Kevin!” Harriet flinched slightly at her pet’s insistent attempts to slightly curb her language, much to Pansy and Draco’s amusement.

“Even he thinks your language is horrible! Good grief Potter, you really should work on that at least a little bit. Also, no trying to banish our teacher with an exorcism. Pretty sure the school board of Governors would frown at something like that being done by a first year.”

Harriet rolled her eye. “Fine. But only because I’m too hungry to think about exorcising Binns’ sorry ass straight to hell for making his students suffer such a dull class for so bloody long. When does lunch start on weekdays? Pretty sure it’s a bit earlier than the weekends.”

“I swear, all you think about is studying, food, and plotting murder mysteries- apparently. I’d consider trying to find you a different hobby, but something tells me you’d use it to in some way inflict pain and or suffering on me to some degree or another.” Draco whined, much to Pansy’s amusement.

“Hey! Food is important and so is staying ahead and on track with school. The murder mysteries are a relatively fresh thought though, you’ve only yourself to blame for that one Draco. Now, since it’s apparently not time for lunch, I’ll be in the library if either of you two need me for some reason.” With that said, Harriet headed in the direction of her favorite place so far in the castle where she was quick to find her usual seat towards the back after grabbing a book on runes after returning the one on runic languages.

Madam Pince had offered a look of surprise when Harriet had commented about already finishing the three inch thick book, but hadn’t commented about her speed at going through it.

Noting the table of contents mentioning there being a section on binding sequences and runes, Harriet was quick to flip to it and start memorizing what she read. Draco may have said no exorcism, but he hadn’t mentioned a word against binding runes. A technicality for sure, but one Harriet would gladly take advantage of if it meant Hogwarts would be forced to find an actual competent History teacher. Besides, there were plenty of  _ other _ ways to deal with annoying ghosts then just exorcising them to some other plane of existence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two friends in less than a week? Harriet's got more skill in this than the girl gives herself credit for lol. Don't get used to it though, I'm intending for it to be at least a bit longer before she really starts befriending the other Slytherins in her year. Draco and the others may seem to get along well so far, but outside of meals, Harriet's not really interacted with them much at all. Believe me, no one wants her and the others to be the little mischief makers we all know they will be more than me, but it'll take some time to get there first. Harriet's meant to have a history of at least some difficulty with making new friends, and two are more than enough for her to adjust to for a while lol. Hence the repeated hiding out in the library instead of sitting around her own house where other people her age are in abundance lol. Until Kevin inevitably get's bored and jabs her in the neck until she expands her social circle better. Tiny menace wants to see her make friends as much as anyone lol.
> 
> And yes, in case anyone is wondering about it, I know I only put the Slytherins only having Defense once a week unlike the rest of the classes, and that there's no astronomy either. The reasons for both slight changes will be explained eventually.
> 
> Also, since I probably missed conveying this little detail that Pansy mentions in this chapter, just try to picture Harriet as having part of her hair covering or obscuring the left side of her face most of the time because of the ragged 'Potter Hair' look she inherited from James making it somewhat of a mess most of the time. Thus most people haven't realized yet that she's missing an eye and has the magical one instead. Only Petunia, Dudley, and now Pansy are even aware of it let alone that it has a few tricks to it. That won't be a secret for very long, at least to some people, and it's a fairly minor overall thing in this story until at least third year when that earlier mentioned 'seeing magic' bit comes into play more for certain reasons I have planned lol.
> 
> If you've got any thoughts on this chapter, feel free to share them in the comments below. I'm always happy to hear what my reader's are thinking about my work lol.


	9. Frightened plants, Bubbling Cualdrons, and Annoyed Bowtruckles (Could be the name of the whole story at this point though)

Their second day of classes passed without much incident, though Harriet was fairly certain that the Puffapods they were taught how to harvest seeds from were more than a bit afraid of her.

She starred in slight bafflement at the shaking plant in front of her that was literally whimpering slightly. “Um. Is this normal? Or does mine have P.T.S.D. or something?” She asked aloud, mostly to herself, though Professor Sprout seemed equally confused as she observed the plant.

“Not at all! Puffapods are as docile as can be, and usually quite friendly with children. That’s what makes them such an excellent starting plant to work with for the first lessons of the year. What’s even more odd is that you’ve bonded with a Bowtruckle of all things who seems to adore you. They’re usually quite good judges of character when it comes to the people they trust, and it usually correlates that said person usually has quite the green thumb. How odd…” Sprout muttered to herself before moving on to the next group, who had somehow triggered their puffapod’s apparently well hidden attack reflex. 

Harriet would have been worried, if the sight of Draco being covered in rapidly blooming bright pink and purple flowers from the seeds his plant was hurling at him wasn’t so damn hysterical. When he passed out from the heavy cloud of dizzying Puffapod spores, Harriet just about collapsed herself from trying to keep in her laughter, even as Pansy stood there snickering at the boy’s misfortune.

“That’s the trade-off I guess. Draco’s bloody brilliant at potions, but the ingredients and plants themselves hate his guts for some reason.” Pansy explained, which just caused Harriet to snort in laughter even more. “Pretty sure they can sense his inner ‘git’ and are trying to literally beat it out of him or something. Or maybe they just hate blondes.” She tacked on as Daphne seemed to have trouble with her own plant as well- mostly in trying to pry the book she’d been carrying around out of the plant’s grasp after it snatched the tome from her.

“And fear anyone with black hair.” Harriet muttered as her own plant continued to whimper quietly, though Pansy’s seemed quite obedient in not moving the slightest- wait...were the leaves turning  _ brown _ ? “Um, is your plant  _ dead _ ? Because I don’t think the leaves are supposed to shrivel up like that and it’s usually supposed to be moving at least a little.”

Pansy glanced down at her Puffapod, only to pale slightly in worry. “Um- exactly  _ how _ rare are these plants again? And how much trouble would accidentally killing one get me?”

Harriet shrugged. “No clue. But I’m pretty sure the book on magical plants I read said that they were practically a step up from weeds in how rapidly they can grow to overrun a garden. Pretty sure you have nothing to worry about, except maybe losing a few points for plant homicide.”

Pansy glared at her for the pun, though her concern did seem to lessen slightly at the news that the plant wasn’t overly valuable.

In the end, she needn’t have worried at all. Professor Sprout hadn’t been upset with the dead plant in the slightest, though she did have to deduct five points for Pansy accidentally murdering her assignment for the day. 

Pansy raised a brow slightly as Harriet pocketed a handful of the Puffapod seeds she’d collected, and the small vial of spores only seemed to confuse the other girl more. Harriet just shrugged.

“What? The apothecary shop didn’t have either for sale over the summer and the one potion book I read said the beans and spores of a puffapod plant have a wide range of uses in brewing. Figured I’d try experimenting with them since there was extra of both.”

Pansy shook her head slightly at that. “You are downright odd sometimes Harriet. Try not to blow up a cauldron tomorrow when we actually have Potions class. Pretty sure Snape would be annoyed if you did. Let’s just get to Charms, that class is meant to be an easy one at least. And Flitwick only gives out homework if you royally suck at casting even basic spells.”

Harriet smirked. “So long as there’s not some way for you to kill a charm, we should be safe.” Only to get swatted on the back of her head.

“Brat. It’s not my fault plants are apparently easy to kill by just looking at the bloody things. They should have that as a warning on the greenhouse doors or something to let people know.” Pansy muttered and Harriet was hard pressed to hold back her laughter at her friend’s irritation for all plantlife.

When Professor Flitwick tasked them with taking notes on the lecture he gave about the theory for the levitation charm, which they’d be practicing next week, Harriet couldn’t help but feel amused at the slightly annoyed mutters that came from most of the other Slytherins. 

The whispered ‘Thank god I can’t kill parchment at least.’ from Pansy nearly made her snort though. Honestly, it was like her new friend thought she was the avatar of Death or something with how relieved she seemed by that fact. Which was its own twisted sort of irony when Harriet thought about it.

_ ‘Huh. Maybe I should ask Death if that’s something I’m gonna have to look out for in the future. He  _ **_did_ ** _ say that being the Master/Mistress of Death came with its own quirks and benefits eventually. Of course, only  _ **_Death_ ** _ would consider dead flowers positive.’ _

Harriet was soon pulled from her musings by the sound of the bell ringing to signal class was over, and had been about to walk out of the room and to return to the library, when Pansy grabbed her elbow instead and pulled her in an entirely different direction.

“Nope! No hiding in the library for you today. We’re in a giant magical castle filled with all kinds of secret places people probably don’t want a bunch of eleven year olds to track down. You and I are going to look for them while I try to keep you from becoming a literal bookworm.” Pansy told her in a tone that brokered no argument, and Harriet pouted slightly at being kidnapped from her favorite pastime.

“I’m perfectly fine with being a bookworm, thanks. Less people there to get on my nerves. Besides, isn’t it kinda against the rules to go snooping around in potentially dangerous hallways in a castle filled with who knows what kind of magic- dammit! I just sold myself on this crazy idea. Whatever, lead on.” 

_ ‘Damn my natural curiosity towards unknown magic and secrets!’ _

Pansy giggled at that before shaking her head lightly. “Relax, it’ll be interesting. I’m sure there’s  _ some _ kind of lost library stashed behind a tapestry or something that no one’s seen in a couple decades. It wouldn’t be a magic school if there wasn’t. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to the third floor corridor that’s forbidden. Just the places that  _ weren’t technically _ listed as out of bounds by Dumbledore.”

Harriet scowled. “Fine, but if we end up finding a troll stashed somewhere and get killed, I’m coming back to haunt you. Also I call dibs on any libraries or books we find stashed away.”

Pansy shook her head in exasperation. “Only you would call dibs on a bloody  _ library _ . Lets just see what there is to find. But I call dibs on any fancy mirrors- I need a new one anyways after Blaise thought it was so funny to charm mine to make my hair appear blue anytime I tried looking in the damn thing.”

Harriet rolled her eye at that. “At least it didn’t actually make your hair turn blue. And now you have a potentially hysterical prank object to screw with people with. I’m sure there’s some use to it that you can put it towards.” Pansy laughed while shaking her head.

“Don’t let the Weasley twins hear you offering prank advice. They’ll try to recruit you into their pranking cult or something before the day is over.

Harriet shrugged. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem anytime soon. If I’m spending all my free time thinking up pranks then I wouldn’t get a chance to get to the library nearly as often. I’ll pass on that thanks.” She had to dodge out of the way of Pansy’s hand as it tried to impact against the back of her head again, which led to both girl’s breaking out into giggles as they sought out anything of interest on the second floor of the castle.

* * *

Wednesday morning saw Harriet waking up at the crack of dawn again, though voluntarily for a change. Much to Kevin’s bafflement and irritation as he was forced so rudely awake by his owner’s morning routine. The Bowtruckle made his foul mood clear by blowing raspberries out of his mouth several times in the five minutes it took Harriet to finish showering and exit the small bathroom that connected to their dorm, already dressed for the morning.

She rolled her eye sarcastically while fiddling with her tie- damnable things were a literal pain in the neck at five in the morning. “Well good morning to you too, Mister Cranky-Butt. Guess who’s staying stuck in here for the morning thanks to such a lovely attitude?” Kevin’s face dropped into a nearly scandalized one before he started on a rant of angry chattering.

Harriet flicked her wand at the irate Bowtruckle. “Silencio.” The chattering came to an abrupt stop, much to Kevin’s annoyance judging by the glare he shot her before crossing his little twig arms over his chest to convey his displeasure. Though Harriet only rolled her eye again.

“Hey, it’s not my choice to make! Snape doesn’t allow any sort of pets in the classroom for safety reasons, plus I really don’t want to find out what happens when a Bowtruckle inhales potion fumes on a regular basis. You could turn pink,” Kevin stared in horror. “Or shrivel up and die if it’s poisonous.” Kevin’s reaction was closer to bored at that possibility, which Harriet found slightly disturbing to think about.

_ ‘Maybe I am making him suicidal or something. That or his priorities are that screwy for some reason. Hmm, what to have for breakfast this morning.’ _

As Harriet gathered her bag, shoving the books she would need for today’s classes inside, her thoughts were oblivious to the possibility of the Bowtruckle’s priorities being influenced by his owner. Much to Pansy’s amusement, even as she tried to fight off her irritation at the five o’ clock wake up call that had interrupted her slumber.

“I swear you’re as oblivious as they come, Potter. Why the bloody hell are you arguing with that menace at five in the fucking morning?!” 

Harriet snorted in amusement- Pansy was most definitely  _ not _ a morning person either. “Just excited for class I guess. Today’s the first potions lesson of the year, and I’ve been itching to dive into that kind of stuff for the last month, two weeks, four days, and seven hours. At least since I first started reading through the Potions textbook we were assigned.” Silence was the only thing to greet her- until a loud thump drew her attention away from double-checking her bag, and to the sight of Pansy on the floor looking at her in bafflement.

“Okay, that’s just disturbing now. Why did you bother memorizing something like the exact hour that you started reading a book nearly two months ago?!” 

Harriet shrugged, slightly embarrassed at being called out on what she herslef considered an irritating habit that refused to  _ bloody die _ ! “Force of habit? I was weirdly fixated on keeping track of time as a kid, and I guess that evolved into my freakishly strong memory making it a sort of background detail I always keep track of without realizing it.”

She didn’t feel like opening the can of worms that was tied into the real reason behind it. Of how nearly a decade of memorizing when Vernon always got home on the days he’d been out drinking after another frustrating day of being skipped over for promotion at Grunning’s drill company. Memorizing the hours had made it easier to know when to stay hidden and out of the way, so as to avoid being a potential target for his anger. Harriet had a feeling Pansy finding out about that wouldn’t end in any way that could go well.

Pansy looked as though she didn’t believe a word of it though, something Harriet really wanted to figure out how the other girl always seemed to know when she was lying, and looked close to commenting on it before shaking her head slightly and seemingly changing her mind.

“Okay, I guess that makes sense. Everyone has weird habits from growing up I guess. Having a good memory like yours would just make those habits a bit more oddly focused on subconsciously memorizing different things probably. Or something like that, I don’t know. Too bloody early for my brain to be thinking about crap that complex. I’m going back to bed before I snap and murder someone for a cup of coffee.”

Harriet had found the other girl’s addiction to the beverage every morning a bit worrying at first- eleven was a bit young to get so obsessed with the beverage, right? But after seeing the first, and only, attempt at one of the older Slytherin’s trying to persuade Pansy into something more age appropriate like orange juice or even water - only for him to nearly get hit with a rather nasty looking cutting jinx that ended up slicing clean through the third year’s bag leaving it in two separate pieces and the contents spilling out - it was safe to say that no one was feeling brave enough to risk a second attempt since.

Harriet couldn’t comprehend Pansy’s fixation on the stuff. The only time Aunt Petunia had let Harriet try a cup of coffee had ended rather chaotically the moment they all realized caffeine was not the wisest thing to give the then ten year old first thing in the morning. Mrs. Figg refused to let Harriet come over anymore after that morning resulted in three of the old lady’s cat’s being traumatized by her over-hyper self’s actions. 

She still couldn’t figure out why she thought it had been a perfectly sound idea to leave a bathtub filled with snapping turtles in her old neighbor’s bathroom the last time Mrs. Figg had offered to watch her for the day, or where she’d even found several  _ dozen _ of the bloody things in the first place. Nor why she had written down notes in her journal at the time about something involving mass breeding the things to stage a government takeover.

Suffice it to say, coffee had been banned from even being  _ in _ the house by Petunia after that day. It was probably safer for everyone that way anyhow. Harriet just blamed it as Death making her have an even weirder childhood then most children born with magic are expected to have.

The next few hours passed quickly, Harriet having opted to spend the time until seven thirty reading through ‘Magical Drafts and Potions’ again to refresh her memory on exactly what was planned for class this year.

_ ‘Sleeping Draughts sound really useful to know, though Snape probably will start with something a bit simpler right off the back. Something tells me he has little patience for sitting in a room full of children taking notes. ‘Maybe Cure for Boils’ or ‘Antidote for Common Poisons’. Both look simple enough even Dudley could get it done fairly easy. I hope.’ _

She tried not to think about the potential risk that might arise with her cousin being allowed near potentially volatile potions ingredients- hell even an open  _ flame _ might be pushing it in terms of what could be considered safe for her cousin to be around. Dudley had alway been a bit of a pyromaniac when they were growing up, something that Petunia had been trying to curb him out of.

_ ‘God, he’s gonna get himself blown up before the week is over. How the bloody hell would I explain that to Aunt Petunia? ‘Hey Auntie, sorry to tell you but Dudley got himself blown up this week brewing a potion a six year old could whip up. Other than that, my week’s swell!’. Maybe I should partner with him in class today, just to make sure he knows enough to not blow himself up.’ _

Nodding to herself, Harriet figured it was the best course of action to try and take as she came out of her thoughts at the sound of Pansy scoffing while they stood outside the door to the Potions classroom.

“And here comes the Gryffindors, listen- you could hear that stampede coming from a mile away! Do they even know how to be in any way quiet while in public, or is loud and obnoxious their default setting?”

Harriet couldn’t argue with her, much as she thought Pansy’s words were perhaps a bit more harsh than the situation really needed them to be as they took in the sight of the Gryffindor’s group talking far louder than they needed to in the quiet hallway. She raised a brow slightly at the sight of Dudley and another boy in their year walking a few feet behind the rest of their house.

Dudley guided the two of them over to where Harriet was leaning against the wall next to the door. “I swear, this lot never knows how to shut up!” He bit out quietly, a frustrated and borderline exhausted look on his face as the other boy- Longtop? No,  _ Longbottom _ , Harriet’s mind connected the dots as the memory of the sorting filled in the details about the boy’s name- nodded in agreement.

Harriet chuckled. “Not a fan of being among the brave and courageous lions, Dudley? I thought you’d like making friends with them at least, aren’t they as obsessed with sports as you are?” 

Dudley rolled his eyes at her teasing. “There’s a difference between liking a sport, and being downright fanatical about it. I’ve barely heard two words from any of the guys in our year that wasn’t about that weird sport with brooms that wizards play, Quidditch? I wanted to take a broom and break it over one of their heads after last night- four hours after curfew and Finnigan was  _ still _ rambling about today’s flying lesson.”

Pansy snickered at that. “When was the last time Gryffindor even won the Quidditch cup again? Three, four years now? You’d think they would realize that their house hasn’t had a decent year since the Weasley twins joined Slytherin’s team. Those two are trouble incarnate, but damn good on brooms when it comes down to it.”

Harriet turned back towards Dudley. “You want to work together as partners in class? Pretty sure Pansy would stab me if I talked any more about the subject, and I very much would like to live past my first week. Longbottom can work with her if he needs a partner though.” 

The two nodded in agreement with Neville offering his name, which was a relief. There were only so many times Harriet would be able to call him Longbottom before being forced to question the boy on who the bloody hell thought ‘Longbottom’ was a good choice to name their kid. She supposed there were sillier sounding names to be born with- like Potter. 

_ ‘Because being named after the same job that someone has which involves spending hours playing with mud is what I want to be known by. Wizarding culture was made up and founded by idiots apparently. Next I’m gonna find out some idiot was named after a joke or a puzzle, honestly.’ _

The door to the classroom swung open slowly, Professor Snape standing in the middle and scowling at all of them as thought they were particularly annoying bacteria he had to endure putting up with. 

“There will be no shenanigans inside of this classroom under any circumstances. Unlike the rest of your classes, Potions is a precise art that has the potential for real danger should you fail to Pay. Attention. Those of you who do not heed this warning now will not be allowed back inside of my classroom. Am. I. Clear?” Harriet had a suspicion that ice would literally start forming in the air if Snape’s tone was even slightly colder, even as everyone else in their group nodded slowly, even the Gryffindors were smart enough to not test the man’s patience so early.

“Then find a seat and choose carefully. The person you sit with will be your partner for the first half of the year. If any problems arise, you will either have to make them known before the week is over or deal with it in  _ some _ way until the return to class after the winter break when term begins once more.” 

“Do you mind sitting on the same side as the rest of my house? We can sit over with the other lions if you're not comfortable around the other Slytherins though.” She whispered to Dudley who shook his head firmly.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. I could use at least one class where I’m not surrounded by the rest of my house, though Neville's not nearly as bad as the rest of them.” Harriet smirked slightly.

“You sound almost like me. They’re really that maddening already? Have you tried talking to your head of house about it? I imagine McGonagall is stern enough to get them to all quiet down a bit.”

Dudley scoffed as they took their seats at one of the tables closest to the front of the class. “And be the kid who got the rest of the house in trouble? We’re supposed to be trying to make friends here, not make a quarter of the school hate us within a week Harriet.”

Harriet frowned at that but decided not to comment at the slightly pleading look Dudley shot her. “Fine. But if any of them act like idiots too much, just let me know. I’ll gladly hex a few of them if you want, god knows I could use more target practice with the knockback jinx.” She grinned sadistically at the thought and Dudley shook his head in what should have been exasperation, if it wasn’t for the small smile on his face that kinda ruined the effect.

“Only if you can avoid getting caught. I’m not lying to mum if you end up getting detention for picking fights with anyone.” 

Harriet shot him an offended look. “Excuse you! Slytherin here! We don’t start fights- that’s a Gryffindor thing to do. Though we damn well end those fights when they  _ do _ happen.” She muttered under her breath so only Dudley would hear, his face pinched slightly at the effort it took not to laugh.

“As stated before,” Professor Snape spoke quietly upon checking off the last name on the list for attendance. He didn’t need to speak any louder though, the rest of the room quiet to the point that a dropping pin would have been heard. “You are here to learn about Potions, not foolish wand-waving and muttering under your breaths to cause something your simple minds will likely find ' _fascinating'_. It is a precise art and practice, and as such- you will _pay attention_ to what instructions are given. No ifs, but’s or why’s. Anyone wishing to argue with that fact may kindly step out of this room before any more of my time is wasted on pointless complaints.” His eyes landed pointedly on the Gryffindor side before moving on.

“No complaints then? Moving on…” He spoke in a dry, almost bored tone. “Within these walls, you will find everything needed to brew the seemingly impossible- liquid glory, fame in a bottle, even a stoppered vial of death itself. So long as you possess enough brain cells within your skulls to not be a complete dunderhead like I usually have to teach.” Snape’s eyes turned sharp.

“Who among you, can tell me the difference between Aconite, Monkshood, and Wolfsbane?” Harriet raised her hand calmly as Snape nodded slightly in her direction. “Miss Potter. Please enlighten the rest of the class to what you consider the appropriate answer is.”

“There isn’t one. A difference between then, that is.” She elaborated at the slightly raised brow Snape offered. “They’re all the same plant, which is highly poisonous. Though it has a number of uses in a large number of potions and poisons. Most famously the wolfsbane potion, whose most crucial ingredient is, of course, wolfsbane.” If Snape was in any way pleased by her answer, he didn’t let it show on his face before nodding slightly and glancing back to the rest of the class. Harriet noted that almost the entire Gryffindor side of the room was glaring at her.

“Correct. And whom among you, not named Potter, can give the location from which I would ask you to fetch me a bezoar from?” Dudley, to Harriet’s genuine surprise, raised his hand hesitantly and Snape nodded his head once. “Mr. Evans?”

“T-the stomach of a goat? I think? I remember the book said it was in some kind of animal’s stomach at least.” Snape nodded a second time.

“Correct. I suggest you all take note of that specifically, as well as the fact that a bezoar may very well be able to save your life should you find yourself sampling any spiked food or drink.”

“And why is that?” Finnigan questioned loudly, much to Snape’s immediate irritation as the man narrowed his eyes as his mouth set into a sneer.

“Because, _Finigan_ , a bezoar will cure you of nearly any poison or toxin short of Basilisk and Acromantula venom- both of which are extremely deadly substances in even the form of a single drop being able to kill a giant within ten minutes for the later. _Write. It. Down._ ” Snape bit out in an acidic growl before turning away from the now slightly pale boy.

“And who among you knows the nature of the Draught of Living Death and can give it’s most crucial ingredient?” Draco raised his hand this time and Snape choose him to answer.

“It’s one of the most powerful sleeping potions in the world, and Valerian root is what makes it so potent compared to lesser sleeping draughts.” He stated smugly, to the Gryffidnor’s increasing irritation, though Dudley and Neville didn’t seem to share their house’s anger in the slightest and focused more on making sure their notes were fully copied down.

“Correct. Five points to Slytherin for two correct answers and a proper demonstration of having read the textbook in advance. And two points to Gryffindor for one of you at least bothering to read the book at all.” He tacked on snidely, though Harriet couldn’t help but feel pleased at the relieved look on Dudley’s face at managing to earn his house any points from Snape of all people.

“Try not to worry so much. I talked to Snape a few days ago about 'you-know-what', and he’s offered to go a bit easier in class so you don’t have as hard a time. He’s also going to talk to McGonagall and the other staff about it discreetly.” She whispered quietly from beside him after leaning in slightly. Dudley offered a nod in thanks, but didn’t get a chance to say anything before Snape flicked his wand at the board and a piece of chalk started writing out the instructions for what Harriet recognized was the ‘Cure for Boils’.

“Use only the instructions on the board for today. The textbook is mainly for the information on various terminology and brewing practices, but I wouldn’t rely too heavily on any recipes within it.” He informed them, much to Harriet’s slight surprise though she just set to copying the ‘proper’ instructions down in her notebook alongside the other notes from earlier. 

During the trip to Diagon, Petunia had taken one look at the listed ‘parchment and quills’ that was part of their list of school supplies and had rolled her eyes in annoyance while muttering about ‘outdated wizards’ before just buying them both a couple of ‘muggle’ notebooks and ballpoint pens to use- though Harriet did purchase a sleek black quill on one of the follow-up trips to Diagon. The store owner had mentioned it was made from the feather of a ‘Dire crow’ which were apparently rarely seen outside of highly isolated and mountainous areas around the world. The fact that it had ‘self-inking’ charms on it already as well as ones that made it so she wouldn’t have to keep sharpening the thing like normal quills were just an added bonus, even if Harriet only really used it occasionally for writing in her personal journal.

“Alright, do you mind setting the heat awhile so the water can start simmering while I get the ingredients we need?” Harriet asked Dudley who nodded in agreement before she headed over to the shelves of ingredients before returning to their station a few minutes later. 

“Okay, so six snake fangs in the mortar and crushed into a powder. Easy enough, though I’ll try not to take offense at that twisted bit of irony.” She muttered under her breath as Dudley tried not to snort.

Ten minutes before the end of class, and they had both managed to pull off the potion almost flawlessly- much to Dudley’s surprise, having expected himself to mess up on one step or another. Harriet felt like it could have been a shade lighter of blue, but Dudley had been content and talked her out of trying to fiddle with it anymore to avoid ruining their work. 

Harriet shook her head in slight worry even as Dudley handled spooning samples of their potion into glass vials while she wrote their names on the label after the stopper was in place. She walked up to Snape’s desk to hand them in and nearly wanted to strangle her cousin when he said that theirs was ‘acceptable’.

_ ‘Great. That’s barely a passing grade, going off the way they handle all that here. I knew we should have used a bit more of the snake fangs!’ _ She thought to herself in frustration before returning to her seat as Dudley set about starting to clean up their station.

“What did he say? Did we get a decent grade at least?” 

Harriet huffed. “Barely. He said it was ‘acceptable’, which is basically the equivalent of a C in muggle grading. Lovely way to start off the year.” She grumbled as Draco snorted from the row behind them.

“Potter, you’ve got a lot to learn when it comes to interpreting what other’s really mean. ‘Acceptable’ from Snape is practically a perfect grade. I haven’t heard of him giving  _ any _ first year that good of a grade on their first potion before, so you two must have done something right to impress  _ Snape _ of all people. He said mine and Blaise’s potion was ‘passable’, which is actually the equivalent of ‘Exceeds Expectations’.”

Harriet raised a brow at that. “And how are you so good at understanding ‘Snape-speak’ apparently?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Because he’s my godfather. Learn to pay attention sometimes Potter, I mentioned that on the second day at breakfast. Why do you think I was looking forward to his class so much? He practically taught me everything I know about the subject since I was six.”

Harriet blinked owlishly at that news. “Oh. That would make a good bit of sense. Well that’s a relief to know we didn’t scrape by with a barely passing grade at least. Would have been a lousy start to the year otherwise, and I get the feeling Snape wouldn’t be happy with a member of his house being lousy in his subject.” dudley bumped his shoulder against hers.

“How do you think I felt in Transfiguration yesterday? McGonagall’s downright scary when she wants to be, and I could barely get my matchstick pointy enough and the right enough color to barely be called a needle by the end of it.” Harriet grimaced slightly at her cousin’s plight.

“At least you pulled it off in the end. Not everyone was so lucky in our class at least. And besides, I read that the more a wizard or witch uses their magic, the easier it tends to get. You’re just a bit out of practice and still adjusting to the wizarding lifestyle. Don’t go beating yourself up about it in the first week already.” Dudley rolled his eyes as they walked out of the classroom and started heading for where the Defense room was.

“Easy for you to say. You’re a natural when it comes to magic. Way I hear it, most of the teachers adore having you in class already. I’m just the below average cousin to the class prodigy.” Harriet swatted him over the head, much to Dudley’s surprise as he spluttered.

“Oh hush! We’re a week into using magic for the first time, give yourself a bloody break before I smack you silly. And so what if I can cast a few simple spells a bit easier than most of our year? I’ve been using accidental magic that you haven’t since I was four! No bloody duh I’m going to have a better grip on it compared to you. You’ve never had to use magic to jam the locks of a cupboard shut when Vernon came home drunk and in the mood for his favorite punching bag.” She muttered the last part under her breath, barely loud enough to count as a whisper as Dudley’s eyes turned sad.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or anything. I’m just frustrated that even magic seems bent on making school harder for me than it seems like it should be, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” 

Harriet rolled her eye. “You don’t have to apologize, you dork. Just don’t go and beat yourself up over something so dumb as this when you’ve barely given yourself three days to get in the habit of it. Magic’s like a muscle, and you have to get used to actually using it for a change. I’ve just had more time doing so compared to you.”

“What are you two whispering about this time?” Pansy questioned as she walked up to the two of them. “And why do I get the feeling it involves world domination? Maybe that’s just from how much time I’ve spent talking to you Potter, but call me paranoid.”

“Harriet gasped mockingly. “I would never plot to take over the world! I’m more likely to just watch it all burn instead, Dudley’s the one who would wage any wars lol. He plays too many video games back home. It’s a muggle thing, I’ll explain it later.” She added at the sight of Pansy’s slightly confused look before the girl shook her head.

“If it’s something that has your cousin willing to topple the government, I’m not sure I want to know. Spare me the details for now.”

Harriet snorted in amusement. “Actually, I could see you getting a kick out of some of them, like Street Fighter or something else of similar levels of violence. The whole objective is to beat the unholy crap out of your opponent until you knock ‘em clean out cold.”

Pansy raised an amused brow at that. “Sounds like the kind of needless violence that you would enjoy the most. Why stoop to the level of common muggles and use my fists when I have a wand to cast hexes as someone? Seems kind of redundant from a wizard stand-point.”

Harriet shrugged. “Fair point. Though there is something just insanely satisfying involved with using only your bare hands to inflict pain and suffering on others while they cower in fear of you. I understand it can be therapeutic to some, if you’re sadistic enough that is.”

Vernon had seemed to enjoy beating her for that very reason, his explosive anger and rage had always seemed to boil down to a low simmer after a few rounds of taking his belt across her back or throwing her into different pieces of furniture while Petunia could only watch helplessly while praying Vernon wouldn’t decide he was in the mood to find a second target that day- that would have made it rather difficult for anyone to be in place to try and tend to her bruises and so forth.

Pansy grimaced slightly in mild disgust before shaking her head. “I’ll take your word for it. Not sure I’d have the stomach for something quite that extreme sounding.”

Dudley chuckled. “There’s also a couple of first-person shooters. You go around killing stuff with guns instead of fists. Though it’s probably even more violent for that reason, mum’s not a huge fan of those ones being allowed in the house at all.” Harriet scowled at her cousin’s love for those games, even as Draco and Pansy shared a confused look.

“What’s a ‘gun’? And why does it sound so violent? Some kind of muggle weapon I’ll assume?” Draco asked, which made Harriet roll her eye before glaring pointedly at her cousin.

“Only a needlessly violent instrument of destruction that’s probably killed more people in the muggle world in the last two or three hundred years alone, then have been killed in all the collective wars fought in the last two thousand years.” Draco and Pansy’s expressions both changed into growing horror at the thought.

“Seriously? More deadly than the Killing Curse?” Harriet tilted her head slightly in reluctant thought.

“Maybe not from a theoretical point of view. People can, and have, survived being shot by a gun, unlike the killing curse for the most part.” She left off the fact that the ‘most part’ came solely from her being the only known survivor of it in the last five centuries. “But that just makes them worse in my opinion. Surviving doesn’t always equate to a good thing necessarily. Some people who have survived are relatively unaffected depending on where they were shot, other’s weren’t and  _ aren’t _ so lucky. A muscle can heal relatively easily with mostly just some scarring depending on the location, even with just muggle medical practices. Something like a bullet to an organ is less easily dealt with in comparison, and imagine the damage involved with a brain injury like that from getting shot in the head and somehow surviving. At least the killing curse is known for being quick and painless, bullets aren’t always if it isn’t a clean shot.”

Draco looked even more pale at the information as they neared the Defense classroom. “Well that’s probably going to haunt my nightmares and thoughts for a while. But it does explain some of the reason for why my father seems to think of muggles as ‘nothing but over-violent savages who delight in nothing but death and destruction when it comes to petty disagreements’. His words, not mine.”

“For once Draco, I might actually be able to say I agree with an opinion shared by your father, even if the man otherwise seems a bit like a bigot overall.” Harriet grimaced at the thought, Lucius Malfoy, from the little she’d been able to piece together on the man, was not someone she wanted to have anything even slightly in common with.

Draco tilted his head slightly. “I’ll agree that his views can be a bit...extreme, sometimes. But that doesn’t make him a bad person really. He’s lived through one war already, something like that tends to impact someone pretty heavily, muggle or wizard alike. He’s not perfect, but who really is? My father does what he can with the hand he’s been dealt in life, or so my mother told me once when I asked her about it.”

Harriet couldn’t help but get lost in thought at that.  _ ‘The hand he was dealt in life. The hands that we’re all dealt, regardless of not wanting them. Huh…’ _

Those thoughts were at the front of her mind as the next hour passed and when she should have probably spent more time paying attention to Professor Quirrell’s apparently shoddy attempts at teaching, even as Harriet’s brain didn’t process a single word of the man’s lecture on ghouls.

“You didn’t miss out on a thing.” Dudley informed her helpfully as they headed to the Great Hall for lunch. “He stuttered so much that no one could focus long enough to catch anything even slightly useful about what he was talking about. The bloke looked afraid of his own shadow, like it would suddenly come to life and strangle him or something.”

“He’s not wrong. I’m surprised you were able to stay lost in your own mind for so long Potter, what with the whole room smelling of garlic and sage. It was nauseating to be honest, I don’t know how you didn’t notice it at all.” Draco glanced at her in bewilderment as Harriet shrugged.

“I spent a lot of time growing up helping my aunt in the kitchen, so I’m probably just used to strong smells like that.” It was one of the few things that she’d come to enjoy doing alongside Petunia that Vernon hadn’t complained about unless she burned anything.

“Good grief, you sound almost like a house-elf or something. First knitting and sewing, then the cooking? Next you're going to say they made you iron your hands when you got in trouble and locked you in a closet.” Draco shook his head in exasperation even as Harriet and Dudley both had to concentrate on keeping their faces blank at how close he’d unknowingly come to finding out more about her childhood then Harriet would like anyone to figure out. 

_ ‘Though, technically it was a cupboard, not a closet.’ _ She couldn’t help but correct in her mind as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She may not realize it, but Pansy had made it her sworn job to try and break Harriet out of her hermit tendencies of hiding in libraries lol. Poor girl is in for a lot of being dragged around against her will in the future thanks to the force of nature named Pansy lol.
> 
> No one can tell me that a positive sibling-like relationship between an antisocial Harriet and Dudley wouldn't involve at least some level of the two of them trying to kick each other's asses at different video games as they grew up lol. And yes, that competitiveness is why Dudley firmly refuses to ever play against Harriet in Street fighter's anymore. He's not looking to endanger his life for the sake of it lol.
> 
> Despite her slightly violent personality, Harriet's got some fairly negative views when it comes to anything involving muggle firearms, mostly from the belief while growing up that her parents had been killed in a break in at home that went horribly wrong, since Petunia did try to hide the involvement of magic in their deaths, but she wasn't trying to paint a negative image of Lily and James like she did in canon. Harriet knows rationally that this isn't what actually happened, she's read too many books on recent wizarding history to buy that story anymore, but she also DID do a hell of a lot of research into the history of firearms as a kid and it's led to her bad opinion of them overall regardless.
> 
> Also, Harriet's one and only incident drinking coffee is totally the reason why Petunia ended up banning any sort of caffeine in the house for nearly a year. It's a very dangerous and weird type of chaos to risk unleashing, and no one wants a repeat lol.
> 
> Draco and Pansy have no clue how close they've accidentally come to figuring out how crappy a childhood Harriet's actually lived, and I'm cackling evilly at the day that it starts coming out inevitably. Gotta have a dose or two of angst every once in a while, things would get boring otherwise lmao. 
> 
> The flying lesson, and rest of their first week will be covered next chapter. It NEARLY ended up in this one, but it was already getting insanely long and this was as good a point to break it up as I was probably gonna get without it being a more than twenty page beast in my document for it lol. 
> 
> Also, anyone notice anything that didn't happen in the potions lesson that did in canon? lol.


	10. Chapter 10

“Potter.” Harriet looked up and over at Marcus when the boy’s confused, yet slightly amused sounding voice reached her ears as she started platting herself some lunch. 

“Yeah?”

Marcus held up his right arm, and Harriet blinked in confusion at the sight of Kevin clinging to the older boy’s sleeve like a mountain climber. “You mind taking this off of my watch? Your pet here thought it was  _ really _ amusing to sneak out of the common room by hitchhiking off of my robes. Not even gonna ask how he got out of your dorm in the first place.”

Harriet felt her face heat up slightly in embarrassment before she reached across a cackling Blaise to pry the indignant Bowtruckle off of the Prefect.

“Sorry about that. I figured he wouldn’t cause any trouble today from just leaving him in our dorm for a few hours.” She glared pointedly at the now squirming creature. “Bad Kevin. When are you going to stop causing trouble for me! It’s the third day of class for crying out loud!”

Kevin just huffed before blowing a raspberry in her direction before trying to pry his way out of her firm grasp. Harriet rolled her eye before setting him down on the table, much to his contentment as the Bowtruckle proceeded to focus on trying to steal the entire  _ bowl _ of strawberries a few inches in front of Pansy’s plate of eggs and bacon.

“Bloody hypocrite. He has such a big problem and takes massive offense to me eating vegetables, yet he’ll steal every piece of fruit he can get his tiny little claws on.” She muttered indignantly, scowling when Kevin just clicked his-  _ whatever _ it was that Bowtruckles used to vocalize their feelings - in a way that she was fairly certain was meant to say ‘be quiet’.

“At least I don’t have to waste time running back down to the common room to fetch this menace now before the flying lesson. More time to spend in the library.” Harriet stated quickly before grabbing her back and stuffing a surprised Kevin in it- and tossing in a few of the strawberries when an annoyed chatter rang out - before hurrying out of the Great Hall before Pansy could process her words fast enough to try and stop her.

The indignant ‘hey!’ from the girl would have made Harriet feel slightly guilty, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was in need of a break from being around everyone for the last three hours straight. 

“Only so much patience before I snap and suffer a psychotic breakdown or something. That’s the last bloody thing I need.” She muttered to herself before slowing her pace when the large doors to the library came into view and Harriet finally let out a relieved breath at the idea of being able to finally unwind with a good book for the next hour or so.

She spotted the now familiar table towards the back, but frowned slightly at the sight of Hermione already sitting in one of the chairs.

_ ‘Weird. Hufflepuff has Transfiguration right after lunch on Wednesdays according to Hermione. Wait...has she been crying?’ _

Pausing a few feet away from the bushy haired girl, Harriet noted what indeed looked to be the dried remnants of tear trails running down her face even as the other girl sniffed quietly while reading her book on- _ ‘101 Common Jinxes for the Average Witch’ _ ?

_ ‘Alright, who am I punching this time?! Wait, Pansy said punching is for muggles. Whose balls are getting hexed off? Sure, let’s go with that one instead.’ _

“Hermione?” The girl flinched slightly at her voice and quickly looked up at her in surprise. “Are you okay? Well, stupid question I guess. Obviously you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a library and trying to hide the fact you were crying while reading a book about hexing people if you were fine. Kinda goes against your personality from what I’ve seen, you hate the idea of hurting people.” Harriet grimaced slightly as she awkwardly rambled, even as Hermione giggled quietly.

“It’s nothing really. Just a few of the Ravenclaws in our year were talking about how I was apparently too much of a know-it-all that none of the rest of my house wanted anything to do with me, but that I still wasn’t ‘smart or clever enough’ to be sorted into Ravenclaw either. Just stupid bullying really, I’m used to it at this point.” Hermione paused in her explanation at the murderous glare on Harriet’s face.

“First of all, it’s not ‘nothing’, and you have a right to be upset about it. Secondly, do me a favor and don’t listen to a  _ fucking word  _ that comes out of any of those stuck up prick’s mouths, alright?” Hermione nodded hesitantly, eye wide from shock at Harriet’s visible rage. “And thirdly, their names? So I know who to cut the balls off of for being such an utter asshole in less than a week.”

Hermione spluttered at that, even as she broke down into quiet giggling a few seconds later. “Ab-absolutely not! Harriet, I’m not letting you go around hexing someone’s genitals off. You’d get in so much trouble for it if you’re caught, and I’d feel horrible for it.”

Harriet raised her brow in challenge. “Slytherin here. We aren’t known for getting caught when we need to teach someone a lesson or two about being nice to others.” Hermione giggled again at that.

“The answer’s still no. You’re not hexing anyone just because I was being picked on by an irritating redhead.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes slightly at that slip, and Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth in horror. “Why did I say that?! Pansy  _ said _ you have a really good memory and now you’re probably already-”

“ _ Weasley _ ?!”

“-Figured it out.” Harriet’s glare darkened slightly as a new host of ideas started flooding her mind on how she could make the boy suffer, before an idea suddenly clicked into place. An absolutely brilliant, downright evilly  _ cruel _ idea. Harriet felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards in what was almost certainly to anyone else a downright sadistic smirk judging from the concerned look on Hermione’s face.

“I don’t like that look. Something tells me that Ronald is about to suffer because of whatever thought just hatched itself in your brain.”

Harriet blinked once at that rather disturbing mental image before shaking her head and allowing her smirk to turn slightly less sadistic. “What if I don't cause any physical harm to him? Then will you be fine with me getting even with the prick? Because I just thought of something bloody  _ brilliant _ !”

Hermione looked at her wearily. “It depends on what this plan is first. Only then will I decide if I can morally allow myself to approve of it, not that I expect that to stop you in the slightest from going through with it.” 

Harriet snickered in joy. “The Weasley twins are rather skilled prankster’s, right? And Ron  _ is _ their little brother that they’d love to know is in need of a reminder to mind his manners…”

Hermione’s weary look turned into almost as maniacal a grin as the one on Harriet’s face. “Okay, I agree with you there. That  _ would _ be brilliant to see how they react. From what I’ve heard, Fred and George both love messing with their younger siblings back home before this year started, so long as it meant they could teach them a lesson or two.”

“So glad you approve then. I’ll corner them at some point and explain what happened and why I need their help.”

“No need-”

“-Little Snakeling. We heard-”

“-Every word of your plotting. And we-”

“-Accept the offer at a chance to teach ickle Ronnikins-”

“-A lesson he so  _ clearly _ needs to learn.”

Harriet jumped several inches out of her seat in fright, only to miscalculate on the way down and end up falling out of her chair and onto the floor with a thump and muttering ‘ow’.

“Those two delinquents are right behind me, I take it?” She asked Hermione who nodded with mirth in her eyes and laughter barely being contained from the slightly red tint of her cheeks as Harriet sat back in her chair. “Lovely. Well take a seat if you jerks want. We can discuss the details of what I had in mind for you to use in teaching your brother a lesson for bullying others.” The grinning faces of Fred and George dropped into view on either side of her as they took the seats on her left and right.

“So what can the demons of Slytherin-” George stated.

“-Do for a tiny firstie like you?” Fred finished as Harriet glared at the slight dig about her height.

“Keep the short jokes coming and I’ll break both your wand hands and glue them to a cactus with a sticking charm.” 

The twins both paled slightly at the threat.

“So sorry-”

“Won’t happen again-”

“Please have mercy on us for we are but humble fools-”

“Who live only to serve in the pursuit of mischief.” They finished together with matching smirks of amusement.

“Hmm. Better. Now to the matter at hand. I have an idea for a prank that will teach your brother quite quickly to not pick on others, and you two will enjoy it I think.”

Fred and George shared a look, seemingly conveying whatever thoughts they may have had telepathically- twins were weird sometimes. Hell, looking at the two of them through her stone eye was downright  _ bizarre _ to Harriet. 

Whereas most people gave off different swirling clouds of various colors that represented their magic, rarely did two people have similar or identical colors unless closely related. That wasn’t quite the case with Fred and George. Both had slightly different shades of reddish orange- Fred’s being closer to an almost burnt tomato color whereas George was more like burnt Pumpkin orange- but what confused Harriet the most was the way that their magic seemed almost joined in the air between the two, like a tether from one twin to the other where their colors blended into the same deep reddish orange.

It was weird, but in a kinda neat way. Harriet almost snorted in amusement at the fact that the two were so similar to the point of their magic being conjoined to a degree, and also at the fact that she had an easy way to tell the two apart that no one else did.

The twins looked back at her with equally curious looks and nodded. “We’re listening…”

Harriet’s sadistic smirk returned in full. “Any chance that either of you two can charm a few anonymous howlers?” She learned about the bloody menaces on Monday after Neville’s grandmother sent him a remembrall and Harriet overheard his spoken relief at not getting a howler sent instead. A quick stop at the library clued her in to the fact that wizards were capable of being bloody sadistically cruel sometimes when it came to publicly humiliating someone during mail hour. 

Fred and George’s curious looks turned into mild shock and then twisted glee at her words as Hermione gasped at what her friend was suggesting.

Harriet steepled her fingers together like an evil villain in one of the Saturday morning cartoons that Dudley used to watch every weekend when they were five. “Here’s what I’m thinking…”

Harriet soon left the twins to their pranking ideas after laying out the basics for what she had in mind, while she and Hermione hurried off to their own classes.

“Professor McGongall’s going to be cross with me missing her class today.” Hermione stated with a worried look in her eyes. “And all because of stupid Ronald Weasley and his stupid attitude, acting like Ravenclaw makes him superior to everyone else because they’re all seen as being so smart. Urgh!!” Hermione groaned in annoyance as Harriet bumped shoulders with her, a smirk on her face peeking out from beneath her hair.

“Just wait until tomorrow morning when Fred and George’s howlers show up with the mail. He’s certain to be left mortified by it.”

Hermione nodded. “I’m just hoping that it actually does something to start correcting his attitude. I’m not sure what I’ll do if it instead makes him retaliate in some blind effort to reclaim his wounded pride by making his bullying even worse.” Harriet shot her a slight glare at the thought.

“Oh don’t worry. He either learns his lesson when it’s slight public humiliation to humble him, or he learns when I whisper the lesson into his ear after castrating him and torching his balls!” She growled at the thought, much to Hermione’s morbid amusement.

“You’re very violent when you get annoyed enough, Harriet. You really should be careful when you say stuff like that though, some of the teachers might give you detention over threats of bodily harm.” 

Harriet rolled her eyes. “And? If it stops a bully, they can give me a dozen bloody detentions a week for all I care. I fucking  _ hate _ bullies like Weasley, they don’t deserve any mercy and they certainly don’t deserve me holding back on them when they sure as hell won’t do the same. I’ve got to get down to the Quidditch pitch, don’t want to be late for Flying lessons.” Hermione nodded and both girl’s bid goodbye with plans already in place to meet up again before dinner in the library.

“There you are! Another minute and Hooch would have probably marked you late and taken points.” Pansy said with a slightly relieved look in her eye at Harriet showing up, which was still a bit weird to see in person.

_ ‘Huh...people actually  _ _ wanting _ _ me around more often than the bare minimum. That’s gonna take a while to adapt to.’ _ Harriet mused as Madam Hooch eyed them all with a hawk-like stare before blowing her whistle once.

“You are here to learn how to fly on a broom. There will be no horsing around during these lessons, am I clear? Anyone caught doing so will be in detention faster than they can say ‘Bludger’. When I blow the whistle, each of you will hold out your dominant hand over the broomstick in front of you and very firmly and clearly say ‘up!’.” The whistle was blown and Harriet looked down at her broomstick pointedly before doing as instructed.

“Up.” She blinked in surprise when it shot up off the ground and into her outstretched left hand almost before she’d even finished saying the word. Glancing around, Harriet noted that only Draco and, surprisingly, Dudley had managed to pull off the same on the first try. Pansy was glaring at her broom as though it had personally offended her when it barely rolled over at her repeated attempts at saying up.

“Try with a bit less anger in your voice and more firmly. It’s apparently all about forming a solid connection between your magic and the magic woven into the broom’s enchantments, which is where intent is most important. It’s part of what keeps you from falling off the second you angle it up or down while flying I think.” Pansy raised a brow before trying to mimic her advice, only to stumble back slightly in surprise when it worked on the first try.

“Huh. Wasn’t expecting you to know anything about flying, Harriet. Do you even care about stuff like Quidditch or sports in general?” Harriet offered a small shrug.

“Haven’t really thought about it all that much. Never really paid attention to any of the sports that my cousin and uncle used to watch every week, I could barely make heads or tails about what the hell was even going on most of the time. Maybe I’ll look into what sports teams Hogwarts offers at some point though. Perhaps something a bit closer to the ground that doesn’t apparently involve something called ‘bludgers’. They sound rather unpleasant.”

Pansy shook her head. “From what the older students in our house said about it when I asked why flying lessons were mandatory for one year only, Quidditch is the only sport that’s popular enough with both wizards, and muggleborns when they’ve learned about it, to warrant being a school sport officially.”

Harriet frowned slightly at that. “And what about P.E.?” Pansy offered a slightly confused look and Harriet felt her jaw drop slightly. “Seriously? Physical Education? Wizards don’t even bother with that?”

Pansy broke down snickering a second later while shaking her head. “Nah, just messing with you. We’ve got a class like that, though it’s not offered until third year and up as a minor elective to anyone wanting to take it, which is kind of stupid if you ask me.”

Harriet was stopped from replying by Madam Hooch’s whistle blowing once more. “Now that you’ve all gotten a firm hold of your broom, I want each of you to mount it and,  _ on my whistle only _ , kick off-  _ hard _ . Float up no higher than ten feet, hover for a few seconds, then slowly descend back down to the ground. Understood?” The class offered murmured words of agreement before Madam Hooch blew her whistle once more.

The moment Harriet lifted off the ground, she nearly gasped at the feeling. It was as though any worries she may have had were shoved to the back of her mind- a not unpleasant feeling, if slightly odd. Harriet was pulled out of the moment by increasingly panicked shouts from the Gryffindors as Nevilled’s broom shuddered and barely maintained his weight in the air. Almost immediately she could see the connection between the boy’s magic wasn’t nearly as strong as it should have been before he kicked off, and when his broom started to float higher and increasingly out of his control.

A memory came to her in that second, one of Death explaining to her in the dead of night, the rest of her family soundly asleep, about how her eye could do more than just  _ see _ magic. That with enough concentration she could literally manipulate it in different ways. Make someone’s magic stronger or weaken it in an emergency- hell, even severing their connection to it fully and taking the ability to use it at all, effectively turning them into a Squib if Harriet really wanted. Death had cautioned her to only try and use the ability sparingly initially, so as to not overwhelm her own magic by pouring too much at once into the stone.

Ordinarily, Harriet would have at least  _ considered _ heeding that caution before trying what she was about to- recklessness was never her strongest trait. But the idea of her cousin’s friend possibly falling and getting seriously injured, or worse, blew any caution out of her brain as she focused her magic into the eye and all her attention went to honing in on the light blue swirls of Neville’s own magic and the broom’s flickering enchantments. Harriet felt when it warmed suddenly in her socket, almost to the point of burning in its intensity, as she willed the piece of rock to strengthen Neville’s magic enough for the connection between boy and broom to stop flickering and grow  _ stronger _ .

The broom gave one last slight jolt forward before settling back into a calm state of floating as Neville carefully touched down on the ground a few seconds later, safe and sound. Harriet released whatever link her eye had formed between her magic and Neville with a quiet gasp as the warm feeling faded again. 

Pansy bumped her shoulder lightly while looking relieved at the pending disaster of Neville falling from so high. “Thank Merlin for him getting a hold of that bloody thing. I’m starting to think Draco may be on to something about these old brooms not being up to code anymore- don’t they have a shelf life or something for how long they’ll last before the enchantments start wearing off?” 

Harriet nodded distractedly. “Four years and five months for the older Shooting Star model like these. After that the enchantment’s almost always fail entirely. Cheap, but wonky at the best of times. Good for training, not actual competitive flying like in Quidditch.” She mumbled while occasionally glancing back at Neville and noting that his magic hadn’t seemed to settle back to it’s prior level of strength.

_ ‘I’m going to have to ask Death over the holidays if that’s something I should worry about in the future. Hopefully I didn’t mess up Neville’s magic or something pulling that stunt.’ _

Death  _ had _ considered, briefly, tagging along with her to Hogwarts only to decide it would be a wasted several months that he could have spent reaping a bunch of people instead. She was going to a  _ school _ , it shouldn’t be even remotely dangerous enough for  _ Death _ of all entities to have to play bodyguard to an eleven year old.

Pansy shook her head in exasperation. “Mark my words, I will be breaking you out of that habit before the year is over, so help me!” She muttered as Harriet chuckled.

“Please, by all means. Be my guest and try. God knows I could use less useless crap taking up space in here.” She punctuated her statement by tapping a finger to her left temple even as the familiar ache of a migraine started taking hold again and she gasped.

“Ow! Not again!” Pansy shot her a worried look.

“What’s wrong?”

Harriet was blinking rapidly in the hopes of keeping the pain at bay for the last few minutes of the lesson. “Migraine. Get them sometimes.” 

Pansy looked over to where Madam Hooch was standing a few students down. “Madam Hooch?” Hooch strolled over, a look of concern appearing on her face as she noticed Harriet’s pained expression.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Migraine. Getting really bad now. It just kinda hit suddenly, wasn’t expecting it.” She tried to explain in as few words as possible as Hooch nodded in understanding.

“Right then, the rest of you are dismissed, class is ending in five minutes anyhow. Potter, I’ll take you to the Hospital wing since you’ve likely not been in that section of the castle yet. At least I would hope so. Pomfrey will have you right as rain soon enough, headaches are child’s play for that woman.”

It turned out that while it certainly  _ felt _ like a migraine, which was indeed something that Madam Pomfrey could cure with a basic headache reliever and an hour or two of rest, that wasn’t actually the case for Harriet’s sudden burst of pain.

The matron traced her wand over Harriet’s head as she sat on one of the beds that filled the room, only to frown slightly at whatever spell she’d cast came back. “Thank you for bringing Miss Potter to me so quickly, Rolanda. It would be best for a bit of privacy however, there’s something I must discuss with her that will likely involve a bit of sensitive information.”

Hooch left a minute later, a slight look of worry on her face in regard to Harriet, but she didn’t hesitate to follow the medi-witch’s request.

“Judging from the way you have your hair covering it right now, and how it wasn’t brought to my attention beforehand by your Head of House, am I right to assume that the artificial eye in place of your left one is something you would wish kept private and out of the eye of the general public, at least for now?” Harriet glanced at her in slight surprise before ‘duh, diagnostic spells likely existed’ filtered into her pounding brain and she nodded once.

“I see. While I’ve seen a number of childhood injuries in students over the years, several leaving their fair share of scars, I’m going to assume that’s not necessarily the case here, hmm?”

“What do you mean- ?”

“I mean, Miss Potter, the fact that your left eye socket bears several smaller scars around it that indicate that injury was made by a muggle kitchen knife.” Harriet stilled at that- dread and anxiety churning together in her stomach to make a lovely recipe for nausea that currently led to her wanting to empty the contents of said stomach. “And I somehow doubt that you would accidentally end up gouging out your own eye when you were ten.”

The woman’s stern look softened into a more concerned one before she pointed her wand at a nearby cupboard that quickly opened as a small bottle filled with blue liquid flew into her hand. Madam Pomfrey held the bottle out for Harriet to take, which she did with a slightly shaking hand.

“Calming draught. It’ll help with whatever anxiety you’re likely feeling right now, trust me. Professor Snape brews them extra strong for that express reason. Wouldn’t believe how many students I’ve had over the years who were in hysterics because of exams alone.” She explained as Harriet quickly downed the small bottle of liquid. Only to frown slightly at the feeling of calmness that washed over her like an ocean trying to drown her troubles.

It was bloody fucking  _ weird _ . Not that she was in any state to actually react in any real way to that thought, but it was still there nonetheless as Pomfrey continued talking.

“Now, I’m not going to force you to explain the reason for why you have a heavily enchanted rock crammed into your eye socket, nor how it got there in the first place. Lord knows that I’ve encountered my share of unorthodox methods used over the years to compensate from an otherwise crippling injury.” Harriet thought she could hear a muttered curse directed to someone named ‘Moody’ she was pretty sure, but the floaty feeling in her head made it hard enough to focus on catching that much.

_ ‘Wizard’s have weird names sometimes. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape...Wizarding culture is weird...’ _

“What I  _ do _ need to know however, is if there are any potential problems that exist within the injury itself that could be the source of your current pain. I can’t treat an injury or ailment if I don’t know the source of it after all. I’d like to cast another diagnostic charm over you, this one capable of giving me enough details to hopefully find out exactly where the pain is coming from, alright.” Harriet could only shrug slightly and tilt her head forward a bit in agreement. Pomfrey waved her wand a second time, this time in a slightly more complicated pattern then the last spell.

Whatever it showed her didn’t seem to make the woman any less concerned as her frown deepened further. “I think it may be best if your head of house is brought in so I can explain a few things. Would you mind if I bring Professor Snape up here to discuss these results as well as to explain the matter concerning your eye? As the resident potions master, his expertise may likely be needed.” 

Harriet tried to think about why Snape would need to be brought up, before realizing he probably had a responsibility to the students in his house and would almost certainly need to be told of any injuries they may have been dealing with. She just nodded her head slightly and shrugged.

“I guess not?” Pomfrey nodded once before pointing her wand at her throat as it lit up at the end.

“Severus? Could you come up here please if you're not occupied at the moment? There’s a matter of some discretion that you should be made aware of regarding one of your students, Miss Potter.” She removed her wand from near her neck and tucked it into a pocket somewhere along her robes.

“A spell to pass along messages requiring any discretion. I have it in place between myself, the heads of houses, and the Headmaster in case of emergencies.” Pomfrey explained to her as Harriet nodded again in understanding even if her brain was still slightly foggy from the potion.

_ ‘Calming draughts are downright annoying! I know I should be feeling something, anything, but it’s like the bloody thing put a stopper on any emotion I could feel right now. I think I’d rather take the bloody panic attack then sit through this crap again, it’s boring.’ _ Harriet mused as the doors to the Hospital wing swung open quietly and the billowing form of Professor Snape walked briskly in, a slight scowl on his face and what looked like ink staining his hands- grading assignments then. No wonder he didn’t look to be in a good mood- assuming the man was even  _ capable _ of positive emotion in the first place.

“You requested my presence for a sensitive matter? What is it? Has Potter somehow managed to permanently injure herself  _ already _ ?” He spoke in a bored tone, and Harriet would have scowled along with him at that, if she were  _ bloody capable of feeling annoyance in that moment! _

_ ‘Oh, anger. Welcome back, my old friend. At least you weren’t kept down for too long. Now let’s see if I can stir up irritation and annoyance as well, I can make it a whole party or something.’ _

“Not recently, no. But she did come to me today with what were initially thought to be migraine-like pains towards the end of her flying lesson this afternoon. However, a worrying development was brought to my attention regarding an injury Miss Potter here likely sustained within the last year or so.”

Harriet took over from there and brushed her hair out of the way from covering her left eye as Snape’s own onyx colored ones narrowed slightly at the sight of the stone.

“I see. And no one else was made aware of such an injury,  _ why _ ?” He directed to Harriet and she shrugged sheepishly- boom! Another feeling back where it belonged! The draught was probably wearing off quickly at this point.

_ ‘Thank god for small mercies. I’m staying around from that stuff in the future, too bloody weird.’ _

“It didn’t seem overly important I guess. Even if I don’t have a normal eye, I can still see to a degree through this one.” Snape and Madam Pomfrey both looked at her in confusion.

“And how is that?” Pomfrey didn’t seem as though this was something she’d heard of before as Harriet tried to explain.

“I don’t really know honestly. Something about it let’s me see the magic around me, at least that’s what I have to assume it is, since it’s been mostly when I was in Diagon alley over the summer with my aunt and cousin, Hogwarts itself, and my cousin all have these...clouds? I guess you could call them, but in different colors for different people. When I’m around other magical people, I can see where they all are probably better than most normal sighted people can.”

“How curious.” Snape spoke in a neutral tone, though he didn’t seem to think she was lying at least as his eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “And where exactly did you acquire such an item? A magical artifact capable of such a thing is something I’ve not encountered before now.” Harriet figured that he wouldn’t have, considering it was crafted by Death himself. 

“A friend of my parents before they were killed showed up one day and gave it to me after learning that my eye was damaged in an accident in the kitchen a few months ago. He told my aunt, cousin, and me that he was from the wizarding world and was an explorer and treasure hunter of sorts. That’s actually how I first learned about magic in the first place, and that we could expect my acceptance letter around my eleventh birthday.”

Snape tilted his head forward slightly at that. “I see. If you do not mind, Miss Potter, I would like to cast a spell on this eye of yours to create a temporary replica of it for further study. It may be important to learn as much as possible in case seeing magic is not it’s only capability and what it may have hidden even from your knowledge.” Harriet shrugged lightly.

“If you think it’ll help in the future, go right ahead. Not sure how much you’ll be able to figure out from it though, the man said that it was one of the oldest pieces he’d stumbled upon in his travels. Could barely make sense of what it was even  _ made _ out of in the first place.” She somehow doubted Snape would have any luck figuring out it’s secrets either, not unless he somehow had a way of deciphering the language of the dead that was written in ancient Parselscript around the iris of the eye itself. She’d be bloody damn impressed if he could, and would be telling Death eventually that he’d been outsmarted by a human. He would throw a fit if that ended up being the case, and she mentally cackled at the image- joy, check. Getting closer to full emotion.

Snape nodded again before pointing his wand at her left ‘eye’ and muttering ‘ _gemino_ ’ under his breath as a small wave of magic obscured half her vision briefly before Snape was holding an identical copy to the stone sphere that Death had carefully placed in her left eye socket before magically regrowing enough of her optic nerve to attach to it that she would be able to ‘see’ through it. 

_ ‘I cannot heal such injuries fully.’ _ He had explained later that night after her aunt and cousin had gone to sleep.  _ ‘If I could, I would have simply done so to mend your eye as it was. Unfortunately, as the embodiment of death as a state of being, I can only connect the remains in a way that will partially restore your former vision.’ _

It made a weird sort of sense to Harriet after she’d thought about it more. Death had to have some kind of limitation placed on him by the laws of creation, omnipotence was kinda risky for any one being to have, and one of those was limited capacity to heal physical injuries. Slotting a missing soul back into place form the deepest pit of hell? Child’s play. Fixing a mangled eye? Not so much.

Snape inspected the eye closely for a brief moment before conjuring a small jar with his wand to place it in for now and pocketing it. “I will see what information can be gleaned. If there is nothing else?” 

Pomfrey spoke up here. “Actually, there is one more thing, Severus. Something I have to discuss with you in private.” She flicked her wand at the still opened cupboard from earlier and another bottle flew out and into her hand before she passed it to Harriet. “A headache reliever. Take that and return to your common room for the afternoon and try to take it easy and rest. No need to keep you cooped up in this dreary place for something so easily treated.” Harriet nodded in thanks before downing the minty tasting light green potion and returning the bottle to the matron and standing up from the bed.

“Thanks. And good luck on your new mystery, Professor Snape.” The man scowled at her for the cheeky comment before Harriet strolled out of the Hospital wing with a slight smirk. 

_ ‘Yep. Definitely got the last of that crap out of my system finally. Calming draught really is a really annoying potion.’ _

Harriet hurried back down to the common room and, not wanting to possibly get on Madam Pomfrey’s bad side by ignoring her advice, went up to the shared dorm room where she proceeded to spend the next few hours before dinner napping lightly.

Until Kevin decided to inform his owner that it was time for more food, by jabbing her in the cheek with his pointed little claw repeatedly until she woke up with a glare.

“You can never resist waking me up in as painful a way possible for your tiny self, can you?” She grumbled before dragging herself away from the comfy bed, only to receive a positive chirp from her pet that she rolled her eye at.

“Cheeky brat. One of these days I’m going to find a cage you can’t lockpick your way out of and shove you under the bed so you stop being a pest first thing in the morning or when I’m trying to sleep off a bloody headache.” 

Kevin held one of his hands over his chest with a disturbingly dramatic look on his tiny face before blowing a raspberry at her for the halfhearted threat.

“You’ve been spending too much time learning from Pansy how to pull off over-dramatic facial expressions. And it’s weird, and I’m not sure I like it. You’re not allowed to learn how to sass me from my own friends. Next you’re going to find a way to mimic having an intellectual conversation from Hermione and then I’m really gonna be screwed.” Kevin gave a horrified and completely over-dramatic shudder of horror at that idea and Harriet rolled her eye again.

“Oh please. Being smart isn’t a bad thing. God, you sound just like how Weasley apparently acts when it comes to anything involving books and a _ cademic learning _ . You would think someone witty enough to get sorted into Ravenclaw wouldn’t look at their school textbooks as though they were about to explode or something.” Kevin gave an affirmative chirp and Harriet snorted. “Well at least you don’t seem to like him much either. At least you  _ can _ be called clever enough in that regard, even if your brain is the size of an acorn. Ow, ow, ow! Not the hair- that  _ hurts _ Kevin!”

Dinner was an interesting affair that evening. Pansy had taken one look at her murderous glare directed at Kevin, and frowned. 

“You seem less in pain than earlier, guess Pomfrey must have sorted out your migraine easily. Something seems off though about you- wait, did you do something different with your hair?” 

Harriet couldn’t even try and look surprised that Pansy had noticed something different about it- the girl was a bloodhound when it came to anything regarding hair. 

Harriet pointed a thumb at Kevin who had decided to ignore the strawberries in favor of the bowl of grapes that were in the middle of the table. The Bowtruckle was weirdly fixated on never eating the same two fruits at different meals of the same day, which translated to Harriet having to ask Petunia to stock up on a wide variety of different fruits over the summer to appease the picky creature.

“Kevin here didn’t like me commenting about Bowtruckles having acorn sized brains- which is a known  _ fact _ . Small brain size doesn’t mean that you’re any less intellectual. I mean look at Weasley, he’s probably got a raisen inside his thick skull yet is apparently smart enough to end up an Eagle.” Her attention was dragged down the table to where both Weasley twins were sitting- and laughing hysterically.

“You’re not wrong there little snake.”

“But don’t underestimate ickle Ronnikins.”

“Books may not be his strong suit, but he’s a surprisingly tactical minded person-”

“When he wants to be. Hasn’t lost a game of wizard’s chest since he learned how to play when he was four. And he’s got a creative way of thinking when it comes to getting out of chores.”

“Both of which are celebrated traits of Ravenclaw. Even if he’s a bit of an unorthodox case.” Fred stated. Harriet had to concede that the twins had a point there. Ravenclaw wasn’t universally about being smart in school and witty, as much as Slytherin wasn’t only about being ambitious and clever. And Hufflepuff’s acceptance didn’t suddenly make them naive nor were all of them necessarily hard workers either. And Gryffindor certainly had its share of cowards despite being the house of the supposedly brave, and she had a hard time seeing Dudley as the type to be recklessly heroic in the face of danger.

“Fine, you’ve made your point. I guess there’s no way I can mock someone for not matching the stereotype of their house when I certainly don’t match much with my own.” Draco snorted in amusement at that.

“What? Ruthless, manipulative and evil? Seriously Potter, you’re gonna try and say you’re none of the first at least?” Harriet pouted.

“I was thinking more along the lines of blood-purist, insane, and murder happy. But your point has some merit I guess. Oh, how’s the plan coming along Weasley devil one and two?” Fred and George shared conspiratorial grins before offering matching nods.

“Got them all written up and ready for tomorrow morning when the mail arrives. I think it’ll get the message through quite nicely.” George told her as Fred commented with-

“And loudly.

Harriet grinned in a slightly sadistic way that had several older Slytherins shuddering in slight fear at the slightly unhinged look in her eye. “Excellent. And how many did you make again?”

“Only a couple dozen. Didn’t want to waste more pieces of parchment then we figured it would take to get the message through our dear brother’s unusually thick skull.”

Pansy was looking between the three of them wearily. “Dear Merlin, what did you get up to with these two, Harriet? And how does it relate to the Weasley in our year?”

Harriet shrugged lightly, her grin still firmly in place. “Oh you’ll see, hell, the entire school will see at breakfast tomorrow. Lets just say that Ronald made the mistake of making one too many rude comments about one of my friends for me to just sit back and ignore. Though you’ll probably be happy to know that I didn’t hurt anyone this time around like with Cormac.”

“And what did McLaggen do to deserve your wrath Potter? Not that he probably didn’t deserve it, the greasy pig has a habit of pissing off the wrong people almost every time he opens his mouth. And to think he’s only a second year.” Gemma asked with a slightly weary look from a few seats down the table.

“Oh relax, I just twisted his arm a bit to get the message across that he should really learn not to insult my family in front of me again. Assuming he wants his genitals to remain attached to his actual body that is. Weasley's about to find out the less violent way that I protect the few things in the world that are mine, family or friends. He better hope I don’t have to resort to the violent option I have in mind for him.”

* * *

The next morning saw the Weasley twins and Harriet’s plan in action as everyone settled in for breakfast. As the owls descended throughout the hall delivering mail to the students who had any, Harriet had to fight not to break out in giggles when an inconspicuous barn owl landed in front of Ronald Weasley with a specially charmed letter in its beak that was in an unassuming-looking blue envelope.

She lost that fight with her joy around the same time that the Weasley twins did after the Letter exploded into nearly fifty enraged Howlers that chased the boy out of the Great Hall, all while shouting ‘Bully’ over and over again in a thunderously loud and anonymous voice.

Harriet may have felt guilty for what boiled down to publicly humiliating an eleven year old for what amounted to a single instance of bullying another student in their year. The sight of Hermione trying to cover up her own laughter with her hands firmly killed that guilt however. Let it never be said that she didn’t defend those who were her’s, even if it was only for barely a week at that point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Harriet a bit extreme in getting back at Ron for insulting Hermione only once? Maybe so, but she's also an extremely overprotective pitbull when it comes to her family and the few friends she's made so far, and she's not the most level headed when it comes to anyone messing with or insulting them in the slightest. Slytherins have a reputation for being ruthless when provoked, and those who are her's is currently the fastest way of provoking Harriet. Plus she's eleven, and her rational thinking is somewhat limited when it involves being used around other people instead of just in front of a book or something lol.
> 
> But this isn't a Ron bashing fic, and I don't plan on him being a bad guy in any way in this fic. He and Harriet will end up striking a tentative friendship before first year is over, but she's never really gonna be as close to him in regards to their friendship as she is with Hermione and Pansy right now.
> 
> Side note: Bowtruckles are tiny ninja's and agents of stealth in training has been confirmed lol.


	11. The Creation of S.A.F.E

The rest of September passed in a blur for Harriet as she alternated between focusing on her classes, trying to interact more with Pansy and Hermione since  _ ‘that’s what friends do Harriet’ _ , or so Pansy had told her around the end of their second week of classes. Oh, and in keeping Kevin from causing too much trouble in his new job (apparently) of playing the tiny ninja of Slytherin house- much to the older students mild amusement and Harriet’s own frustration towards the menace.

The weirdest thing to happen that month, oddly came a few days after the Weasley twins’ prank on their brother. 

She, Hermione, and Pansy had been in the library going over the latest Transfiguration essay- something that Harriet and Hermione had to go over carefully in Pansy’s case. The girl was still having difficulty in memorizing the increasingly complex theoretical side of the subject, much to Harriet’s confusion because it seemed fairly simple to her. 

_ ‘Not everyone can memorize an entire book of theoretical studies like you can Harriet.’ _ Hermione had pointed out helpfully, and Harriet just kept her opinion to herself from then on as the two of them tried to help their friend understand the topic of the essay better. And that was when Ron Weasley of all people walked up to their table looking ashamed before turning to Hermione.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you before, and I shouldn’t have mocked you for your intelligence. Ravenclaw doesn’t have a monopoly on smart people, and I should have kept that in mind. Can you forgive me, and do you think we could start over again as friends or something?” 

Hermione glanced at her and Pansy, only to receive matching shrugs.

“As long as he can learn to mind his mouth from here on out, I don’t have a problem with it if you don’t. You’re the one he insulted, Granger.” Pansy explained. Harriet just huffed.

“If you’re fine with him being around then I guess I am too. But he says one rude comment that upsets you in the slightest, and they’ll never find his corpse when I’m through.” Ron had paled at that, even as Hermione and Pansy snickered and the bushy haired girl offered her hand for the boy to shake, much to his surprise.

“I’ll give you a second chance to show that you can be more than just a rude jerk. Don’t make me regret it Ronald. I can always sic Harriet on you if I need to, and she’d be more than happy for the chance. She’s not a big fan of anyone who thinks bullying and insulting her friends and family is a good way to entertain themselves.”

Ron nodded his head quickly. “Understood. Fred and George have been telling me I need to learn how to watch what I say sometimes. I don’t always think my words through when I probably should.”

“Smart of them to say that. You should probably start taking it to heart.” Pansy told him snidely before gesturing to one of the free chairs. “Well sit down if you want. We’re going over the essay that was assigned today in Transfiguration.” And that was that, even if Harriet still bore a bit of a grudge against the boy.

From that point on, the four of them had gathered in the library to do their homework almost everyday, minus the weekend which was when Pansy would drag her around to some far off section of the castle for whatever secrets they could uncover, much to Harriet’s amusement.

After stumbling across several abandoned classrooms, one of which was filled with a weirdly enchanted mirror gave Harriet chills before she’d pulled Pansy away from the room without so much as glancing at the odd artifact.

“There’s something weird about that thing that has my blood running cold. I don’t think we should mess around with it, magical mirrors are almost universally bad news, even in the muggle world. Especially one  _ that _ creepy.” Pansy looked as though she wanted to complain, but had in the end opted not to at the worried look on Harriet’s face that remained until they were back in the common room.

Harriet was sticking with what her instincts were telling her, and in that moment they had been screaming ‘DANGER!’ the moment she saw that bloody mirror. The world would almost certainly be better if it were destroyed, whatever purpose it had. Not that Harriet had enough nerve to bother doing so herself, plus she doubted it would be as simple as trying to smash it to pieces with the nearest heavy object.

* * *

The days sped along into the rapidly growing cold weather that was October’s presence. She was surprised one Saturday morning by the sight of a barn owl landing in front of her plate of eggs and bacon- her toast having been swiped by Kevin already, much to her slight disappointment.

Harriet raised a brow in confusion after noting that the letter was an invitation to tea with Hagrid, the groundskeeper, for one in the afternoon. She couldn’t really fathorn why the seemingly kind giant of a man would want to have tea with her of all people, but she glanced over to the staff table and nodded in acceptance when Hagrid’s eyes landed on her. The pleased grin he shot her made Harriet relax slightly. It wasn’t like Hagrid had done anything to even remotely come across as dangerous or suspicious so far, hell the man seemed to love magical animals as much as she did according to some of the older Sltherins, which put him in her decent people category.

Besides, it was free tea and Harriet figured a cup or two were in order with how bloody cold the weather had gotten the last couple of days. Apparently the house elves, which she was slightly appalled to learn were employed as the cooks of all the food that magically appeared at meal times, were under orders from Snape to limit how much caffeine she was allowed access to in one day. 

She’d read up on House Elves after Draco’s comment nearly a month ago, and couldn’t help but think of the ‘elf-bond’ agreement an elf had with their master was a bit too close to slavery for her comfort. Harriet had talked Hermione into visiting the kitchens once, her concern about the matter refusing to leave her mind until she at least tried to hear how it was from the elf’s perspective. She’d only been partially appeased in her disgust. 

Apparently the headmaster was one of the few people of any real influence in all of Britain who actually treated house elves like employees instead of servants at the beck and call of wizards. Hell, Harriet had learned from a book on the subject that the ‘elf-bond’ itself was even illegal outside of a few European countries in wizarding society- other countries seeing with increasing amounts of  _ common sense _ how cruel some wizards could be if allowed to keep the equivalent of an indentured servant around who couldn’t do a thing to stop them from inflicting abuse upon the elves. 

And all because of a bloody binding the arrangement placed on the elf’s magic. The act of employing house-elves with actual jobs in wizarding establishments so that they had a stable source of magic to maintain their own was becoming increasingly commonplace in countries outside of Europe, which was a relief to learn about. But it still left a bitter taste in Harriet’s mouth at the idea that the wizarding government in her own country was so stubborn about keeping a source of free labor in place that they refused to legalize any laws in Wizarding Britain that gave house elves even basic rights.

“But what can we do to help really?” Hermione had asked later that day as they sat at their table in the library, a desperate look in her eyes. “We’re just two eleven year old kids. No one’s going to pay a second of attention to us ranting on about rights for house-elves.”

Harriet frowned in thought before an idea came to her slowly. “Well what if we weren’t just two?” Hermione looked at her in confusion. “I mean, what if we could convince a bunch of other students, older students, about the injustice that comes with keeping a servant around like this? More voices are much harder to silence then one or two. And enough voices can possibly make a big enough impact to get the ball rolling at least until we’re old enough to actually push for any changes themselves.”

“And who are we going to convince to stand with us in the first place? Most pure-blood families with any sway in the ministry have house elves themselves, and most of the students in those families aren’t likely to want to immediately lose their childhood servant.”

At this Harriet grinned, the same kind of grin that Hermione had repeatedly noted was one that meant the idea that spawned it was likely a chaos-inducing plan. “Well, what about the non-pure-bloods? Muggleborns and half-bloods like you and me are at least partially aware of the concept of slavery and how it can easily be considered in effect with house elves, right? So why don’t we focus on recruiting from  _ that _ section of the school before trying our luck with the pure-bloods. Two thirds of the school is a better starting point than just relying on one, right? I don’t actually know, staging a potential revolution on something like this is kinda a new thing for me after all.”

Hermione giggled. “Yes, because  _ I’m _ certainly the more rebellious one out of the two of us. I’ve staged government revolutions a dozen times, can’t you tell?”

“Great! So how do we start?” Hermione blinked owlishly before facepalming at the fact that her attempt at sarcasm clearly didn’t register.

“That was a  _ joke _ , Harriet. I haven’t  _ actually _ done anything like this before.” Harriet’s grin dropped slightly with a muttered ‘oh. Right.’. “But I guess we should start with a name for this group we want to try to put together, right? What about the ‘Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare’?”

Harriet raised a brow at that. “You mean ‘S.P.E.W.’? Hermione, no offense, but no one in their right mind would offer to help with  _ or _ join a group that’s named after a sound you expect to make when you’re vomiting. We want people to give the idea of helping house elves respect right? Not make them laugh at us.” Hermione conceded Harriet had a point.

“Coming up with group names has never been my strong point. Or so I was told by the last study group I tried to form back in primary school. No one wanted to join the ‘Society of Negation of Offensive Grades’ either.” Harriet snorted.

“Seriously? ‘Snog’? Good grief, I can only imagine everyone’s reaction to that one.” Hermione blushed. 

“I WAS EIGHT! Give me a break, I was an awkward kid sometimes, I get it.” Harriet chuckled and shook her head with a small smile.

“I’ll say. But then, I’m hardly the one to tease someone for something like that. Though I was less ‘awkward’ and more ‘terror inducing’. No one was willing to partner with me in group projects because they were all scared I’d attack them or something. Cowardly wimps.” She muttered as Hermione giggled.

“Anyway, a name? We do actually still need one if we want people to take us seriously despite our age.”

“Hmm...what about ‘S.A.F.E.’? ‘Stop Abuse For Elves’? Might be a bit short, but it’s simple and gets the message and point of the group across really easy. Plus it’s a concept that most people can relate to, everyone wants to have a feeling of being safe, so why not consider and apply that for elves as well?”

Hermione nodded. “You know what? That’s bloody genius! Everyone can relate to it and understand the reasoning, and it would probably attract more members who would be interested. I guess we found our recruitment lead.” 

Harriet blinked owlishly. “Wait, what?”

Hermione nodded with a grin. “Yep. You came up with the name and the reason behind it in a way that would most appeal to the general public at Hogwarts. That means you can have the job of talking to more people about it and recruiting more members who want to join. I’ll handle things like badges with our group name on them and talking to the elves about what rights they would be most willing to petition for if the bond was dissolved legally.”

Harriet waved her hands around in a slight panic. “Are you  _ insane _ ?! Why in the world would you give me that kind of role in all of this?! I suck at talking in front of other people unless it’s about schoolwork! Not to mention that half the school is in some way frightened of me! I’m about as publicly agreeable as a bloody pitbull with a temper problem!” Hermione waved off her concerns and scoffed.

“You’ll be fine. And if it has you that worried, just start small and try talking about it with students in our year, the muggleborns and half-bloods. There’s a bunch of them in Hufflepuff who aren’t too afraid of you right now, and aren’t Tracey and Pansy half-bloods too? I’m sure they’d be willing to listen to you easily.”

Harriet still wasn’t really sure how her one friend could be considered a half-blood when, according to Pansy, both her parents had come from pure-blood families themselves. Wouldn’t that status have continued down with their only daughter? According to Pansy, apparently not. For whatever reason.

She shook her head in exasperation. “Fine. But if the group ends up failing because no one wants to listen to me, I’m blaming you.” 

“Deal. But it won’t, because you’ll be fine. We’re eleven, everyone our age is at least a bit awkward talking to people they don’t know very well. Plus, if Pansy and Tracey agree, you can always ask them to help spread the word, take some of the pressure off if it really bothers you too much.”

Harriet nodded begrudgingly. “Alright, that’s a good idea. I’ll see what I can do at least. Who knows, maybe we’re not the only ones who have picked up on the wrongness of it all, and people just feel like it would be a wasted effort to try and start something that’s nonexistent otherwise?”

* * *

In the end, Harriet didn’t have much need to worry. In fact, it was almost _too_ easy to get both girl’s interested in their group idea. 

Latter that day in the common room, Tracey had barely hesitated in signing on when Harriet explained about how she and Hermione were trying to help petition for House-elves to have more rights and freedoms then they currently did.

“Mum’s been pretty appalled in the last few years about how a lot of Noble families have been treating elves like slaves. Her side of the family has a bit of history with the civil war that was waged in the states a few centuries back. They had people who worked with the underground Railroad, helping slaves escape to freedom and away from their masters. That kind of thing.” Tracey explained to both her and Pansy, much to Harriet’s surprise.

“Really? Do you think she would be interested in lending a hand at all? Spreading the word to any of her friends or colleagues at work who might be willing to lend support?” Tracey shrugged lightly but she had a smile on her face at the idea. 

“I can’t say for sure, but I can definitely write home to her and ask. If nothing else, she’d most certainly be willing to spread the word about how wrong it is on a moral level, mum’s kinda vocal about anything she doesn’t approve of the ministry doing or supporting. Did you know she actually punched the Minister for Magic himself at a party a few years back?” 

Pansy looked equal parts scandalized and ecstatic by that. “She  _ didn’t _ ! Cornelius Fudge himself?! And she wasn’t arrested for it?!” 

Tracey giggled and shook her head in the negative. “Not like he could have if he wanted. My aunt would have destroyed his career if he had. She’s downright vicious on a good day.”

Harriet raised a brow. “Who’s your aunt? She sounds fun.” Tracey actually  _ cackled _ at that.

“I doubt anyone other than mum and myself think so. Her name’s Rita Skeeter, she’s the lead reporter for the Daily Prophet, and probably the most ruthless and cutthroat one in the industry. A Slytherin at heart, just like mum. Imagine their joy when I ended up in Slytherin as well, my aunt was ready to write a bloody article about it, and about the prejudice half-blood’s like me tend to face in Slytherin house. Thank god mum talked her out of it though, I’d probably die from the embarrassment.”

An idea hit Harriet in that moment, and the now familiar sadistic grin found its way onto her face a moment later, much to Pansy’s growing horror. “Oh Merlin, what twisted and chaotic idea just entered that demented mind of yours now?”

It was Harriet’s turn to cackle with glee, much to the fear and worry of the other Slytherin’s around the common room- that was never a safe or sane sound these days and everyone in their house knew it. “Tracey, how likely do you think your aunt would be to publish a couple articles about house elves if you asked her to look into it?”

Tracey grinned as she caught on to her idea. “Oh she’d love to. If it involves slandering the Ministry, there’s few topics she enjoys more than those. I’ll write her a letter later, and you can count me as part of your little group.” Harriet turned towards Pansy.

“What about you Pans? You in for some government rebellion?”

Pansy raised a brow at her question. “Join a group whose very existence spits in the face of one of our government’s oldest and most firmly held ways of life?” Harriet frowned slightly at the apparent rejection from her friend, only for Pansy’s blank mask to shift into her own slightly sadistic smirk. “Count me the fuck in! This is gonna be all kinds of fun! Especially since it means my father will hate every bit of it.”

For whatever reason, Pansy and her father had apparently never gotten along well. Harriet had a feeling it had something to do with the reason her friend wasn’t considered a pure-blood by any of the circles of noble families. She figured if it was something important for her to know, then Pansy would have mentioned it by now.

“Huh. Four members in less than a day. That’s a hell of a lot better than I imagined this would go. Let’s head to dinner, I’m starving.” Harriet stated idly, much to Tracey and Pansy’s amusement.

“I swear, seven years from now, some things are never going to change.” Pansy muttered halfheartedly as the trio left the common room and headed for the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, Harriet and Hermione turn the laughing stock that is SPEW into something that can actually accomplish their goal of rights for house elf's, and three years early, because Harriet ain't waiting that long to do something about that issue with the ministry in light of the comment Draco made two chapters ago. Patience is not nearly strong enough in the little terror lol.
> 
> I give it a week before Harriet and Rita end up staging a total government takeover together lol.
> 
> Next chapter will feature the meeting between Hagrid and Harriet, as well as a few others possibly, and the famous troll incident. And a possible talk between Harriet and Dumbledore towards the end, though I'm not certain if I'll be able to squeeze that one in. I'm curious how you readers expect that second one to go lol.


	12. Tea With a Side of Trolls

Harriet strolled down the castle grounds towards the small hut Hagrid apparently lived in, Pansy and Hermione trailing a few seconds behind while arguing lightly.

“I just don’t see why I had to be dragged along! I don’t know Hagrid in the slightest, and he’s not the biggest fan of Slytherin house as a whole.” Pansy reiterated for the third time in the last five minutes as Harriet rolled her eyes.

“Consider it as a bit of karma for dragging me all over the bloody castle to snoop for secrets. And there’s no need to be rude by making assumptions about Hagrid based on rumor alone. I sure as hell am nothing like the stories painted me as the ‘girl-who-lived’, who’s to say Hagrid has to be like a couple of rude students painted him as?” Pansy huffed in annoyance but didn’t comment.

“Well I think it’s a good thing for you to agree to meet with Hagrid. He seems like an overall nice person, from what the other Hufflepuff’s have said about him at least. And a cup of tea does sound lovely with this weather. I’m honestly surprised there hasn’t been any snowfall yet with how cold it is.”

Harriet frowned. “Don’t even say that! I bloody hate the snow  _ and _ the cold. The notion of a warm cup of tea is quite literally the only reason I’m out here freezing my ass off.” Pansy snickered.

“You’re just cranky because the house elves have already cut you off for the day from caffeine.” Harriet glared murderously at her.

“Don’t even start with me on who has the bigger caffeine problem Parkinson! The whole house is still traumatized because of the last time someone stood in between your love affair with coffee.” 

Pansy narrowed her eyes. “Touchè Potter. But at least I don’t get all ‘plotting weird plans for government takeovers’ like you.” Hermione snorted in amusement as they neared Hagrid’s hut.

“Wait, seriously? What did she think up  _ this _ time?” Pansy shook her head.

“I don’t even bloody  _ know _ ! Some half gibberish rambling on a few dozen pieces of parchment about using ducks and flobberworms to build a spy network for gathering information on Ministry officials in order to stage a coup against Fudge. I think? There was also something about ‘Veritaserum’ ‘Felix Felicis’ and ‘Battle Trolls’ that didn’t make a whole lot of sense outside of making me worry that we should probably look into getting Harriet a mental evaluation. I’m also half-convinced that it was all partially written in at least three different languages, one of which I’m pretty sure might actually be a dead one.”

“And that’s why you can’t make sense of it! If you could read them, it’d fill in the missing logic perfectly. I looked over the notes I took after the fourth cup of tea wore off, and overly caffeinated me is surprisingly well thought out when it comes to overthrowing a government. Who would have guessed?”

Hermione stared at her in bemusement. “But  _ Flobberworms _ ? They’re useless outside of as potion ingredients, they can barely even be considered sentient. The ducks I could  _ maybe _ see as being used as spies, but Flobberworms? No way in bloody hell.” Hermione gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth as Pansy started cackling.

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day you swear so casually Granger.”

Hermione flushed crimson. “It’s all the time I’ve spent listening to Ron lately. I’m convinced that boy’s vocabulary is half composed of curses and swears, and that he spends most of his time not shoveling food down his gullet thinking of ways to incorporate them into his everyday conversations with people.” She insisted as Harriet went to knock on Hagrid’s door.

Only to jump back nearly a foot when loud barking rang out from inside the hut. “Who’s there?!” Hagrid called out over the barking.

“I-It’s me, Harriet? You invited me for tea yesterday. I brought a couple of friends with me though, if that’s alright?” The door swung open a second later to reveal Hagrid’s beaming face.

“Of course it’s alright Harriet! Glad you agreed to visit, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something kind of important you should know about. Don’t mind the barking, Fang’s just a bit overly excited when it comes to meeting new people. He wouldn’t hurt a fly though, too much of a coward he is. Good dog though, he might try to jump on you at first though, just push him down and he’ll settle down pretty quick.”

Harriet wasn’t too pleased with the idea of a dog, until noting what kind of dog Fang was and nearly fainting on the spot. “Hagrid, why do you have a giant boarhound?!”

Hagrid seemed to take note of her worried look and chuckled. “He’s completely harmless Harriet. Mostly keep him around to intimidate any of the less friendly creatures lurking in the Forest, they aren’t too fond of Fang either for that same reason. I can let him run around outside though if he makes you uncomfortable, a lot of the younger students tend to be weary of him as well.”

“If you don’t mind, thanks. Not really the biggest fan of dogs, sorry.” Hagrid waved off her apology and chuckled before opening the door and shooing Fang out of the small hut.

“No need to apologize, like I said, you’re hardly the first person who’s been a bit weary of him. Now, how do the three of you take your tea?” Pansy slapped her hand over Harriet’s mouth to keep her from responding.

“No caffeine for her. Or sugar. It’s safer and less maddening for everyone here if she isn’t made even slightly hyper. Plus Snape would kill us if we brought her back to the common room twitching from caffeine again.” Harriet pouted as Hagrid let out a booming laugh while shaking his head.

“Sounds like there’s a story behind that one.”

“Only if you consider Harriet’s odd reasoning while hyper a ‘story’. Apparently she’s got notes written down somewhere from the last time she had too much sugary and over-caffeinated tea about how to spy on  _ and _ stage a government coup using ducks, Flobberworms, truth serum, liquid luck, and battle trolls.” Hermione explained as they all sat down around Hagrid’s small kitchen table as the man bustled around preparing the tea.

Hagrid starred in bewilderment for a few seconds before chuckling at that. “Sounds like Lily’s daughter alright. Your mother was quite fond of coming up with hypothetical plans while apparently drinking far too much caffeine late at night during her school years, though she preferred coffee to tea herself. Pretty sure she even had notes on different spells she was looking to create over the years that she never got around to before...well, you know.”

“You knew my mother then?” Hagrid let out a loud snort at her question.

“Course I did, not too many people can say they didn’t at least know about Lily Potter. Bloody brilliant witch she was, wickedly smart and clever. Kind too.” Pansy elbowed her slightly at that, which led to Harriet glaring at her friend for the cheeky smirk on her face at the ribbing. “In fact, I knew both your parents when they were students here, though your father was quite the more mischievous one out of the two. Always seeming to find trouble James did, and his little group of friends as well. I reckon there hasn’t been a group of four students in the last fifty years that have served more detentions then them, though James must have sorted himself out eventually. What with ending up Head boy and all. Lily was head girl as well, likely balanced each other out I reckon. Can’t imagine how they survived their seventh year if they didn’t, always managing to drive each other a bit batty.”

“Um, Hagrid? What’s this?” Hermione asked while glancing at a slightly older edition of the Daily Prophet. 

“Oh ah, that. I tend to fall a bit behind in current events from time to time so I prefer to keep older copies of that around just in case something important comes up that I need to remember about.”

“Fair enough. Harriet’s lucky in that regard, bloody eidetic memory for her. She never seems to forget anything we learn about in class.” Pansy commented, much to Harriet’s embarrassment as she blushed while Hermione skimmed over the front page article with increasing curiosity.

“Hold on, I remember this one! It was released around the first or second day of school wasn’t it? Apparently someone had recently broken into Gringotts Bank around a month ago at the time. They didn’t steal anything though, apparently the vault in question had just been emptied less than a day before. That’s kinda strange, I thought Gringotts was one of the safest places in the wizarding world? How could someone get passed that much security to reach vault 713? That’s a rather deep and high security one according to the article as quoted by one of the members goblins in charge of the investigation.” Hagrid was shuffling around nervously, not that the three witches noticed as their attention remained on reading over the article as Hermione adjusted the paper for them to read.

“Huh, it was only a day or two after my aunt took me and my cousin to Diagon alley for our school supplies. We only stopped in the bank twice for a few minutes to exchange enough pounds into galleons. We didn’t exactly have a vault set up in advance.” 

“Oh! That reminds me Harriet, you should talk to Professor Dumbledore about that actually. Your parents left you a sizable inheritance before they died, Dumbledore’s been holding onto the key until you were old enough, wanted to make sure it was safe and whatnot.”

Harriet blinked in surprise. “Seriously?! They left me an inheritance?” Pansy scoffed at her surprise.

“Is it hard to believe? The Potter’s are an old pure-blood family after all, and at least several of them were famous inventors and potions masters over the years. Pretty sure your grandfather, Fleamont Potter, even invented Sleekeazy’s Hair potion. Supposedly to help manage the Potter hair, tangled mess that it usually is.”

That was news to Harriet. “Well that’s good to know I guess. Be nice to have something that can tame this tangled mess I have to deal with.” She gestured to her hair as Kevin let out an indignant chirp from her sleeve before popping his head out and chattering at her in an annoyed tone, much to Hagrid’s amusement.

“Adorable little things, Bowtruckles. You’ve got a good eye for pets Harriet. They’re mighty useful for Wandmakers, always able to tell the kind of tree that supplies the best kind of wood for making wands. Bit feisty though when it comes to protecting those same trees, don’t like anyone threatening their homes and whatnot.”

Harriet snorted in amusement this time. “My cousin and I didn’t want to just go with boring animals for our pets, like a cat or toad like the letter said were recommended. Dudley ended up picking the laziest bloody niffler in the litter, and I got this tiny menace. Kevin seems to prefer staying in my sleeve though instead of a tree. I’m pretty sure he’s either afraid of heights, or has separation anxiety that his pride refuses to let him admit.” 

Kevin let out an offended huff before scratching his nails down her arm in annoyance. “Ow! You little brat! That hurts you know!”

Hermione chuckled. “Well that’s what you get, according to Kevin, for thinking a bowtruckle can even get separation anxiety.

Harriet huffed. “Well you try to explain why he insists on going with me everywhere and hates being left in our dorm room? Because last I checked, Bowtruckles were supposed to be largely antisocial.”

Hagrid chuckled. “You might be onto something there actually. Bowtruckles don’t usually care for human company, but Kevin here is your familiar practically. You’ve got something of a bond formed between you like many a witch and wizard have formed over the years with their own beloved pet. Why, Professor Dumbledore even managed to befriend and bond a phoenix years ago, rare things that they are. Fawkes always hates when the headmaster is away for business, get’s dreadfully lonely till he returns. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kevin here is similar in that regard.”

Harriet frowned and looked down at the pleased chattering coming from her sleeve that the bowtruckle was still poking her head out of. “Well you’re pleased to have that excuse now, aren’t you brat? Thanks Hagrid, now I’m never going to be able to leave him behind for Potions class again, and Snape is gonna be in a foul mood from here on out.”

Hagrid grinned sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to cause any trouble with the little fella. But I don’t see why Potion’s class would harm a Bowtruckle, they’re surprisingly sturdy despite their small size. You could probably, though I  _ hope _ you won’t actually test the fact, throw him in a fireplace accidentally and he’d walk if off only slightly crispy around the edges. Bowtruckles are naturally resistant to being burnt, what with forest fires being a thing- though I’m not sure that’s the case if magical fire is used, so I wouldn’t recommend trying to set your pet on fire anytime soon. He won’t appreciate you for that one.” 

Kevin glared up at her warningly. “What?! It’s not like I’m crazy enough to actually try and set you on fire or anything! Sheesh, I might be a little crazy sometimes, not psychotic!” Judging from the tone of his chattering, Kevin was far from convinced of the fact. Hagrid glanced at the small clock on his wall.

“Oi! Look at that, it’s nearly time for the feast ain’t it? I’ll tag along so no one questions why any of you were a bit late, have to attend myself anyhow.” 

Hermione offered a relieved smile. “Thanks Hagrid. Having a staff member along to explain why we might be late will be helpful.”

Pansy snickered as they all hurried out of the hut, Hagrid trailing behind a bit due to his height. “You just don’t want to risk losing any points for Hufflepuff. Aren’t you guys in last place with the fewest points?”

Hermione huffed. “It’s hardly our fault! Zacharias Smith makes it almost impossible for any points we do earn ourselves to last longer than a day at most. I’ve never seen one person so egotistical as to sabotage his housemates efforts just because it earns them more points then he can be bothered to. I do well in Potions one day, he blows up his cauldron just to cost us Snape’s good graces and several points. Hannah Abbot does well in Charms? He’ll set her homework on fire so Flitiwck has to take points from us. He’s a hundred times worse of a bully then Ronald ever was.”

Harriet perked up slightly. “Want me to hex him for you? It’s been way to long since I’ve had a chance to terrify anyone and I’m pretty sure most of the school is starting to grow used to me again, which is just wrong from the natural balance of how things should be.” She gave a dramatic shudder of horror at the idea, to Pansy’s great amusement.

“Most of Slytherin is already used to you Harriet. They just aren’t stupid enough to provoke you into castrating any of them or jinxing them in painful ways. I think they’re actually trying to be respectful and stay on your good side in light of what you did to Cormac two weeks ago.”

“That was  _ not _ my fault! He didn’t pay attention to where he was walking when the stairs shifted, and him being left traumatized apparently means I’m responsible for him wandering into the unlocked forbidden corridor when I was  _ nowhere near him.  _ Besides, even I could hear the barking from whatever he stumbled on in there and I was on the floor beneath him at the time! Why the hell would I knowingly lure him to a massive dog? I’m terrified of dogs.”

Hagrid frowned. “You shouldn’t go anywhere near that hallway! It’s dangerous and forbidden for a reason! Despite being friendly most of the time, Fluffy’s been cooped up way too long to be in a pleasant mood.”

Harriet stared at him in horror. “Fluffy?! You know that dog?!”

Hagrid scoffed. “Course I do, he’s mine after all. Bought him off of a specialist a few months back who traded rare and exotic creatures. A Cerberus hasn’t been spotted in Britain since the founder’s time, they’re so rare. Dumbledore asked me to lend him Fluffy to guard what’s on the third floor.”

It was Hermione’s turn to frown. “You mean there’s something beneath him that’s worth guarding? Hagrid, why could be so important that Dumbledore would risk putting a Cerberus in a school full of kids to guard it?”

“I’ve said too much already. You three need to keep your noses out of this. It’s on a strictly need to know basis and only Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel are in the section ‘need to know’. It’s dangerous! Though mind you, Fluffy won’t do more to any student wondering than bark at them and scare em off. He loves kids, turns into a puppy around them and all.”

Harriet shook her head in exasperation. “Well at least the students aren’t in any real danger from the giant three-headed dog in the castle. Here I was thinking Dumbledore had gone completely insane or senile.”

“He’s a great man, Dumbledore. Though he has made a few questionable decisions over the years, I owe the man my trust after he helped me out by giving me this job here. If Dumbledore thinks whatever is being guarded is safe at Hogwarts, then it is. Now go on to your tables, the feast is half over from the looks of it.”

Harriet ended up thoroughly enjoying the feast itself, despite having to pry Kevin away from trying to steal an entire Pumpkin pie, to the rest of the table’s amusement. And then Quirrell had to show up and ruin it by screeching about a troll in the dungeons and fainting in the middle of the Hall.

Dumbledore stood from his seat as the hall descended into chaos and pointed his wand in the air before shooting off gold sparks. As the hall quieted once more and everyone turned their attention to him, he spoke calmly. 

“Students shall remain here in the Great Hall, with Hagrid standing guard over the doors. Hagrid, do not allow anything through these doors outside of a teacher or member of the staff.” Hagrid nodded firmly as the teacher’s swept out of the Hall in search of the troll.

Pansy turned towards Harriet, only to blink in surprise at the other girl’s empty seat.

“She left about ten seconds before Dumbledore calmed everyone down. Muttered something about ‘being able to help find the troll’ I think.” Draco told her calmly, much to Pansy’s horror.

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone or try to stop her?!” Draco raised a brow.

“It’s Potter we’re talking about, right?” Pansy furrowed her brows in confusion and nodded slightly. “Then it’s the troll you should be worrying more about the safety of. I get the feeling Harriet’s going to be perfectly fine with her anger issues. It interrupted dinner didn’t it?”

Suddenly, she was feeling bad for the troll.

* * *

Severus was not in a good mood tonight. Between Quirrell disrupting the festivities, the Weasley twins having detonated yet another dungbomb in Filch’s office (not that he was complaining, the man was almost universally by students and staff alike), and a splitting migraine that no amount of headache reliever would fix in light of the puzzle that was Potter’s stone eye he had been attempting to figure out in the last newly two months, it was overall in unpleasant evening for him.

Let alone when he spotted Potter herself in the middle of the doorway leading to the Grand Staircase instead of in the Great Hall  _ where she would be bloody safe! _

“Potter!” He bit out in growing frustration. “What in the world are you doing out here, I know for a fact Hagrid brought you and Parkinson back in time to know there is a Troll on the loose.”

The girl didn’t answer right away, seemingly staring off into space with a look of concentration on her face-  _ oh _ .

“Trolls have rudimentary magic, right? Something I can actually see no matter where the source of it is currently if it’s moved through an area recently. I figured I could help speed up your search for the troll if I could at least point you in the right direction. For all you know, the troll could have moved out of the dungeons and been anywhere in the seven floors of the castle by now. Quirrell wasn’t moving that quickly when he burst into the Great Halls, and I doubt Trolls are slow when they’re disoriented about their surroundings.”

Albus chuckled at the girl, much to Severus’ own annoyance. “A tactical conclusion Miss Potter. Madam Pomfrey informed me recently about your ability to see magic, and I concur it would be most helpful to have your insight in the matter. The troll should, after all, be dealt with quickly and efficiently.”

Minerva spluttered. “Wha- Albus?! Are you certain this is wise? She’s only a first year, and chasing after a troll is typically something we would be discouraging, not encouraging her to do!” Albus chuckled again.

“I do not believe Miss Potter here had any intention of actually chasing after it on her own. Else she would not have been standing ten feet in front of the Great Hall where we would have spotted her instantly. She’s much too clever for that if it were her intent.

Potter, the menace, nodded firmly. “I’m eleven, not stupid. I’ve read about trolls before, and I doubt I would have accomplished much other than getting turned into a stain against the wall and floor by that thing. But I was able to figure out which trail of magic that’s in the air is likely the troll’s.” 

Severus raised his brow at that. “Really? And what makes you so certain of that fact?” Potter shrugged.

“Because magic tends to float around the same height as the person it belongs to, like in a trail, and I don’t know anyone besides maybe Hagrid who would leave a trail twelve feet in the air. And I know it’s not his, because his magic is a bright blue color. This one is a mix of muddy brown and forest green. And it’s leading  _ out _ of the dungeons.”

Severus didn’t like the fact that one of his students was asking to go on a literal Troll hunt, and from the look of it, neither was Minerva. Of course, Albus ‘oblivious’ fucking Dumbledore didn’t seem to share their hesitation and dislike of the idea as he nodded in agreement with the menace of a girl.

“And as no one has recently flown around the hallways at that height recently, I would think your hunch to be an accurate one Miss Potter. If you would be so kind as to point us in the right direction, though please stay by Severus’ side at all times. We wouldn’t want your safety to be at risk should we stumble upon the troll unexpectedly, hmm?” Potter nodded her head without argument, much to Severus’ surprise, as Albus and Minerva took up the lead of their little group.

“Alright, it went right and up the stairs to what looks like the second floor.” Potter stated and the hunt began for the troll. Before long, the girl had led them through nearly the entire castle, only for a foul odor to assail their nostrils as they approached the seventh floor.

“God, what the bloody he-”

“Language!” Minerva chlded, much to Potter’s annoyance as she grumbled under her breath

“It would seem that we’ve stumbled upon our mountainous guest.” Albus commented, mirth gone from his eyes as he took up a more serious tone of voice as they approached the tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy’s attempts to teach trolls ballet. An irony not lost on any of the staff as they spotted the troll standing in front of it with a confused expression on it’s wrinkled and tiny face.

“Magically resistant hide, poor eyesight, freakishly strong- what? I ramble when panicked and that thing is bloody huge  _ and _ currently charging at us. Joy.” Potter rambled on, only to notice his glare directed at her before Severus glanced up to notice that the troll indeed had spotted the small group of wizards twenty feet in front of it before deciding to charge at them in an attempt to attack.

Filius pointed his wand at the troll. “ _ Bombard Maxima! _ ” A flash of light hit the troll square in the chest, resulting in a massive explosion that knocked it back and into the wall.

Severus glared at Potter when the girl muttered  _ ‘wicked’ _ under her breath, before his attention was drawn back to the slowly recovering troll.

“The blasting curse Filius?! In front of a first year,  _ really _ ?!” Minerva exclaimed, attention split between the troll and chastising her colleague for such a dangerous spell being used in the presence of an impressionable eleven year old.

“Don’t try blowing it up, it’s skin is nearly impervious to spellfire! Kill it with fire or something.” Severus nearly groaned out loud in exasperation at Potter’s mind instantly going to the use of fire, before realizing the girl may have actually had a point. He flicked his wrist, drawing his wand from his sleeve and into his hand before he pointed it at the troll’s face.

“Incendio.” Flames ignited the troll’s mouth before Severus willed them to spread inward along it’s tongue and up before the flames reached its brain. Within a few seconds of pained roars from the troll, it had toppled over, dead.

Albus nodded slightly. “A tad extreme don’t you think Severus? Blinding it would have sufficed, I imagine, rather than killing the troll entirely.”

Severus glared. “You wished me to  _ blind _ a dangerous troll while keeping Potter safe? Ignoring the offense that could be implied for me to do so in front of a child who suffered an injury less than a year ago that resulted in the loss of her eye, I deemed it a necessary course of action to ensure the troll would not regain consciousness before it could be removed from the castle properly.”

Albus has the decency to look ashamed at the suggestion before he turned to look at Potter. “My apologies, Harriet. I did not consider how that would likely be inappropriate and that you would likely find such a course of action less than savory in light of things.” 

Potter shrugged. “It’s fine. I  _ did _ suggest killing it with fire, though I didn’t think Professor Snape would actually follow that suggestion quite so literally and without hesitation.”

Albus chuckled lightly. “Yes, quite. Now that the troll has been dealt with, I believe twenty points to Slytherin house are in order. For assisting in the protection of your fellow students by lending aid to the staff when time was of the utmost essence tonight.”

Potter blushed at the praise, much to Severus’ annoyance. Endangering herself was not something they should be giving points for! Even if the girl didn’t rush off and put her life in danger like a foolish Gryffindor would, she was still voluntarily putting herself in the most dangerous area of the  _ bloody _ castle.

“Severus, if you escort Miss Potter here back to the Great Hall to rejoin the rest of her house before informing Hagrid that the danger has passed. Minerva, Filius and myself will attend to the removal of our deceased friend here from the premises.” 

Severus scowled in annoyance before nodding once and turning on his heel, robes billowing in the wind as Potter followed after him.

“If I find out you’ve done something nearly as reckless and dangerous as tonight’s events could have easily been, there will be consequences. Am I clear?” He stated in a serious voice. Potter nodded slightly.

“I won’t try to make a habit of chasing after trolls anytime soon, Professor. I just figured with being able to see the troll’s magic, regardless of how rudimentary it was, that I could help at least in finding the thing quicker. I was never going to actually hunt it down on my own.”

Severus pushed open the door to the Great Hall, noting Hagrid’s relieved look. “Very well, then get back to the rest of your house at once. I imagine Parkinson has been rather worried about you.” The girl nodded once before following his order and heading over to the Slytherin table as he walked over to the half-giant. “The troll has been dealt with, Rubeus. The castle is secure and safe for the students to return to their common rooms for the night. The rest of the staff, including the headmaster are dealing with removing the troll’s remains from the castle itself.” He spoke in a quiet voice, not wanting the students to be made aware of the troll being killed in the process.

“Well that’s a relief. After Quirrell left to join you and the rest of the staff in searching for the troll, I was worried he might have stumbled upon the blasted thing again and gotten himself squished.”

Severus frowned slightly. “Quirrell? Odd, he didn’t join the rest of the staff at any moment after we encountered the troll.”

Hagrid brushed off his concern. “Ah, he probably just got lost in trying to track you all down, I reckon he’s stumbled across Dumbledore by now and is helping to get the troll squared away properly.” 

Severus hummed lightly, not buying into that possibility in the slightest. He knew there was something off about the newly appointed Defense teacher, and he had a growing suspicion it had something to do with the Dark Lord, even if Albus wasn’t fully convinced yet.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter has some mentions towards the end about creatures that are based in the 'Supernatural' side of this story, rather than the Harry Potter one. That side wasn't originally planned to have much influence within this story, but plans change sometimes and my plot for this fic has evolved drastically in the last week or so. Apologies for any reader's who aren't as interested in that, though to be fair, 'Supernatural' was tagged as part of this fic from the very beginning, so there was always a slight chance it was going to happen to some degree that more of that universe would have some influence here. It still won't be a huge focus until at LEAST Harriet's fourth if not fifth year at the earliest, so we're still mostly in Harry Potter territory for those of you who are mostly interested in that side of this fic. Death's about the only really present figure from outside of Harry Potter canon, and he's mostly only present rarely outside of the summer holidays when Harriet's away from Hogwarts.

In the days after the troll incident - as most older students were referring to Halloween of ‘91 - Harriet was hard pressed to find a time in recent memory where so many people had spent so long a period of time worrying about her. Mind you, it was mostly Dudley, Pansy, Hermione, and now Tracey, who had been pestering her about it, but still. That was still more people than she was used to caring about her safety.

It was weird, but not in a bad way necessarily. Hell, Harriet thought it was almost sweet how her friends had integrated themselves into the small group of people who seemed to care about her in any way, which was previously a group mostly composed of Dudley and Petunia. Oh, and Death, but he would pout for weeks on end if he knew she was aware of how much the grumpy old bastard cared.

It took her until the end of bloody  _ November _ , a near full  _ month _ , before she managed to convince Pansy and Tracey that she would be safe leaving the common room without a bloody escort at all times. The notion that Hermione was still refusing to acknowledge that fact was the only reason the two had even let her out of their sight at all. 

Harriet would have complained about it more, but the reminder of actually having friends for once convinced her to settle with just pouting whenever Hermione had dragged her to the library- not that she actually minded because, well, more books.

She’d taken to tearing through (not literally, because she was almost protective of the old books as Madam Pince was) the entire section on Ancient runes. Hermione had been amused by her enthusiasm, until it turned into slight fear at seeing just how quickly she was picking up on the different protective rune sequences. 

(She’d already apologized to Ron after he’d mistakenly sat in the chair she’d been practising a particularly strong repulsion sequence on while bored one afternoon. The boy had been flung nearly five feet clean into the air by it and landed with a rather painful sounding thump on the floor.)

Harriet had also taken to applying her growing knowledge of runes to her personal belongings. Her bag had a few runes she’d burned (because thread-based runes were dangerously temperamental even  _ with _ years of practice and she wasn’t in the mood to accidentally blow up her bag in the process) into it that would expand the inside to allow her to carry more in it at once- as well as a nasty little sequence that would cause any possible thieves to break out into painful blisters that screamed ‘thief’ when they were ruptured. That one had been tricky to pull off, and had taken some clever phrasing on her part. Elder Futhark was well and good if you needed to rely on it, but she had developed a fondness for Hieroglyphic rune styles, despite their complexity.

Pansy had taken one look at her trunk after she’d spent the majority of a weekend carving different protective symbols into the lid, sides, and even the lock of, and just shaken her head and gone back to her Charms essay that was due the next day, muttering ‘paranoid dork’ under her breath.

S.A.F.E had also surprisingly received a good amount of growing support in the last two months. Tracey had written to her aunt, who had written back the next day ecstatic about the newest ‘juicy story’ her niece had passed along. Apparently, this was not the first time the girl had come up with some idea or another for Rita to write about.

“Between mum writing for the Quibbler, dad being part of the Wizarding Wireless Network as a news reporter, I kinda grew up with the sort of thinking that can come up with news worthy stories easily. My aunt’s even tried getting me a summer job at the Prophet writing gossip blogs, but apparently her boss thought I was too young at the time. Not to mention mum would have thrown a fit if she found out her sister and daughter were working together at her biggest competitor’s publishing house.” Tracey explained after noticing Harriet’s confused look at the mention of prior experience helping with articles.

Rita Skeeter went on to post several scathing articles directed at the Ministry of Magic, and especially Minister Fudge, about the outdated practice of maintaining the ‘elf-bond’ after all these years, despite the fact that Britain counted itself as one of only eleven countries worldwide who still employed the cruel process.

Fudge of course, had refused to comment about any of the nine articles Rita published in the last few weeks, and had apparently tried to threaten to have her fired if she didn’t stop. Until the reminder that she was the best reporter in the ministry’s strongest supportive newspaper and media outlet stopped his complaints, at least publicly.

Hogwarts itself had reacted rather strongly to the articles as well, with several  _ dozen _ students noticing the badges Hermione had manufactured with help from Professor Flitwick and all wanting to join the group after Hermione explained the meaning of S.A.F.E. 

Harriet had been right that the Pure-blood students were the largest source of those who didn’t want to support their group, but not for the reason she had expected. 

“Most of our family’s expect us to side with them in their beliefs, Potter.” Draco of all people explained to her roughly a week before christmas as their year sat around the common room, either finishing last minute homework assignments, or as Harriet herself was doing, planning out Christmas gift ideas for their friends and family. “None of us want to be the person who publicly argued against and fought their family’s ideals. Even if a majority of us see that house elf’s deserve to be treated as better than a step up from slaves. Also, what in Merlin’s name are you even doing?!”

Harriet looked over at the charmed knitting needles she had floating in the air beside her and shrugged. “Christmas gifts for my friends and family? I figured now that I have access to thread and yarn with different charms imbued into it, I could make something a bit more neat then usual.”

Draco raised a brow. “And what exactly is this one going to be for? What even is it, fuzzy boots?”

Harriet flushed red at that before huffing. “Well there goes that attempt. They’re supposed to be fuzzy  _ socks _ , you git. They were supposed to be your gift, since you mentioned the socks your mother always gave you each year didn’t have heating charms sewn in. It was all I could think of off the top of my head.”

“Why are they purple then? Not really my kind of color preference you know.”

Harriet rolled her eye. “They ain’t done yet! I’m using purple, green, and silver for the colors of the Malfoy family crest. The little snakes are just because I thought they were cute. If you don’t want them I can always just get a Quidditch catalog or something and give Pansy or Tracey the socks. They at least like purple.”

Draco held up his hands in defeat. “No no! You don’t have to do that, I’m perfectly fine with the color. And it’s actually kind of cool that you even bothered making something for me as a gift. I didn’t think you considered me a friend much.” Harriet shrugged.

“Eh, don’t think too deeply about it. They’re still just a pair of socks after all. Hermione’s getting a hat that has a charm sewn into it to keep it over her hair. Apparently muggle ones can’t compete with the bushiness of it most of the time without being three sizes to big and covering half her head in the process. And I’m not telling any of the other’s their gifts ahead of time since I can literally see Tracey and Pansy trying to be subtle with their attempts at listening in.” 

Both girl’s huffed before leaning back in their seats again after getting caught. “Well you can’t blame us after casually mentioning Draco’s gift in front of him!” Tracey exclaimed as Pansy nodded in agreement.

“We can’t even try and snoop around to try and figure out where you’ve stashed them, since I doubt Draco’s is the first one you’ve worked on so far. Your trunk is almost scary with how many protective charms you’ve slapped on the bloody thing, and I’m pretty sure it even growled the last time I walked too close to it.”

Harriet snickered. “Yeah, it comes in handy for keeping snoops like you two from ruining my hard work in planning decent gifts. And besides, Tracey’s is the only one I had to worry about getting done in time. The detailing was a bitch to get right. Pansy’s just getting a book.”

Harriet took off running at the murderous glare on her friend’s face at that before Pansy stated hunting her down.

“Potter! Get back here and explain your screwed up logic! A bloody book?! I’m not Granger dammit!”

* * *

Harriet woke up early Christmas morning, Tracey apparently having decided six o’clock was a perfectly reasonable hour to shake her awake.

“Get up! It’s Christmas!” Only to stumble back and trip over her feet when Harriet swung one of her pillows at the girl, leading her to trip over her own feet and land on the floor with a ‘thud’.

“Too early. Wake me when it’s an hour before lunch maybe. Or the feast.” The sounds of shuffling indicated that Tracey was up again.

“But then you wouldn’t see the hilarious gift I gave Kevin to wear all morning...”

Harriet cracked open an eye suspiciously. “Did you stun him first? Kevin hates the  _ idea _ of wearing any kind of miniaturized people's clothes.”

Tracey blushed slightly. “More like the full body bind curse, since he was being extra stubborn. Take a look at festive Kevin.” Tracey held up her right hand, where an irritated looking Kevin was firmly grasped wearing what looked like a tiny Christmas sweater of all things. Kevin took one look at her shocked expression before holding up his left hand, the middle claw being the only one not curled into a fist.

That was what made Harriet’s malfunctioning brain snap out of the mindfuck that was a  _ bowtruckle in a sweater _ , and she broke down in laughter. “Oh my god!” Tracey finally noticed the fact that Kevin was flipping them both off and her mouth dropped open in offense.

“ _ Rude _ ! I worked hard on getting you in the bloody thing! You don’t have to be such a prick about it.”

Harriet struggled to regain enough breath to speak, wiping a small tear from her eye. “He’s spent  _ waayy _ too much time around Ron and his bad habits. I’m surprised he hasn’t straight up learned how to curse in English yet. Let me guess, you put a sticking charm on the sweater? I can’t imagine he hasn’t managed to claw his way out of it otherwise.” Tracey nodded.

“It’ll only probably last another half an hour though.” Kevin looked horrified at that. Harriet finally decided to drag herself out of her comfy bed to appease Tracey.

“Alright, I’m up. Let’s go open presents that you’re so fixated on dragging me out for.”

She and Dudley had both decided to spend their first Christmas at Hogwarts this year, and Harriet had sent a letter home explaining the change of plans. Petunia had been a bit annoyed at the idea of their traditions going uncelebrated this year for once, but had okayed the both of them staying in the end along with a mention that she’d send both of their presents with Carl. After much debate between letters, Harriet had convinced her aunt to finally purchase an owl of their own since sending letters over the summer to their friends would have been a bit complicated otherwise. ‘Carl’ was Harriet’s choice to name the irritable looking Great Horned owl her aunt had purchased from Diagon. 

Dudley had tried suggesting the name ‘Herbert’ instead, thinking her suggestion was too ridiculous for a giant owl that looked like it could fight, and  _ win _ , in a war. Only for ‘Carl’ to nearly peck his finger off for the trouble. 

Thus, he was unofficially Harriet’s owl for the most part, for lack of anyone else being able to appease his temper. Dudley just handed off any letters he wanted to send to Petunia through her, Carl not letting anyone else’s hand get even remotely close to him besides her’s. 

Privately, Harriet was almost certain the owl must have some form of P.T.S.D with how bloody paranoid and distrusting he was of anyone other then her. Dudley figured the only reason he tolerated her in the first place was because she kept bribing him with sausages at breakfast every morning he delivered any letters. She reasoned it as not wanting to risk losing her only good eye to the temperamental bird.

Going down the stairs to the common room, Harriet blinked in surprise at the sight of a small pile of presents under the simple Christmas tree that had been set up near the fireplace, a fire already crackling warmly within. It took her brain a good few seconds to remember that this year wasn’t like all the others, that she actually had a chance to open real, meaningful, presents for once from her friends and family, now that Vernon wasn’t around to forbid anything more worthwhile than a 50 pence coin being given to her.

“Come on, take a seat already. I want to find out what this mystery thing you made for me apparently actually is.” Harriet shook her head at Tracey’s excitement for something so simple, a small smile on her face as she took a seat near the tree across from her friend.

“Here, open this one first. It’s from me.” Tracey shoved a small package into her arms, the wrapping paper covered in tiny pictures of wands shooting off glittering sparks that may Harriet snort in amusement before carefully peeling the wrapping paper off of what was obviously a book from the shape alone.

Harriet raised a brow as Kevin glanced down from his seat on her shoulder at the medium sized book titled ‘How to Groom your Bowtruckle and Create New Looks out of Its Leaves’. Kevin glanced up at her with a look that likely translated as ‘the fuck is this bullshit?’.

“I may have gotten carried away with the idea of trying to wrestle him into that sweater ahead of time, which translates as a lot of mentally picturing different Bowtruckles with various hairdos made up of their head leaves. Hagrid actually found this book for me yesterday when I mentioned trying to find a way to give Kevin a makeover.” Kevin looked close to lunging at the girl’s eyes, claws already starting to extend before Harriet flicked him lightly.

“Be nice. Tracey’s just teasing you because you’re so easily wound up about this stuff. I’m not going to actually use any of these on you- hey, there’s a way to make the leaves look like a little afro. How cute.” She flipped open the book, only to stare in slight shock at the sight of a Bowtruckle with an afro of all things atop it’s head. Kevin shared the annoyed picture’s expression before he dug his small claws into the side of her neck. “Ow! Don't scratch me!” 

A quiet gasp drew her attention to Tracey, who was looking at the gift she had given the girl with a look of pure shock. “Harriet- did you seriously  _ make _ these?!” Tracey gestured to the pair of mittens sitting in the torn wrapping paper in her lap.

Harriet shrugged slightly before nodding once. “I mean, yeah? You mentioned needing a pair of new gloves, and I know the one’s for sale at Diagon Alley that have heating charms sewn in are really expensive, plus the charms themselves don’t last very long. So I figured, why not? You’ve been an awesome friend to me the last few months, and you’re pretty much the whole reason S.A.F.E. is nearly as popular as it is. I wanted to try and give a gift with some actual meaning behind it, but I don’t really know much about what you like or are into that isn’t cheap wizarding candy or something else I could have grabbed from any wizarding shop in Britain.” She let out a startled squeak when Tracey tackled her into a hug before letting go a few seconds later.

“Sorry, forgot you’re not much of a hugger. But, I can’t believe you went through the trouble of hand making a pair of gloves after I mentioned needing a pair weeks ago. And you went through the trouble of making sure they would be warm through the whole winter instead of a few weeks like most gloves with heating charms tend to last.”

Harriet blushed slightly at her words. “There’s a bit more to ‘em then just that.” Tracey looked up at her in confusion. “Flip ‘em over and look closer at the palms and fingertips.”

Tracey did as suggested, her brow furrowing more. “Are these...runes? I thought you hated working with thread runes though, you mentioned they were a pain most of the time to get them stable enough to work right.”

Harriet nodded. “They are, and normally I wouldn’t bother. But I tracked down Professor Babbling, the Study of Ancient Runes teacher? For some help with that part. She’s a lot more experienced when it comes to sewing in thread-based runes then I am. Though she did seem impressed that a first year even knew as much about the subject as I did. She said she’d be happy to see me in her class in two years if I was interested in taking it as an elective. Anywho, the runes have different functions to make the gloves themselves more practically useful.”

“How so? They’re just for keeping my hands warm outside when it’s cold, right? Or do they spit fire out of the fingertips or something.” She chuckled for a few seconds before noticing the considering look on Harriet’s face.

“You know, that might actually be helpful in some situations. I’m gonna have to look into that in the future. But sadly, no. Not for these at least. Mostly the runes are there to reinforce the grip you have on your wand if you ever need to use it outside. Fuzzy mittens don’t exactly make for the idea grip for using your wand while having to throw a hex at someone in a hurry or to defend yourself.”

Tracey shook her head, a growing smile on her face. “You made me a pair of  _ dueling mittens _ ? Merlin, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone thinking up something like that before. You may want to have another pair on standby though, I can see my aunt wanting a pair for herself. I can’t even count how many times she’s been in a situation where having easier access to her wand would have been helpful. The world of a reporter is a ruthless one at best.” The two of them chuckled at that before Harriet turned to the next present she’d been given, this one from Hermione apparently.

Harriet blinked in confusion at the large box of honeydukes chocolates. Hermione was well aware of Harriet’s dislike for overly sweet candy, so the choice of sweet chocolate seemed like an odd one to her.

She picked up the note Hermione had written and read over it, where she realized that, duh, it was bloody dark chocolate which was much less sweet than normal chocolates tended to be.

_ ‘Harriet, I wanted to say merry Christmas! Now, I know you don’t have much of a sweet tooth, so I looked around in different Honeydukes catalogues to try and find something you’d actually like. Imagine my surprise when I noticed they had a whole page on these ‘special’ chocolates.  _

_ Apparently they’re meant more for when we’d be a bit older, and I’ll leave it to you to piece together why that would be. I mostly got them to help keep your temper in check however, most of the Hufflepuff’s in our year are still weary of you after that time you nearly put Zachariah in the hospital wing for a week.  _

_ Do try not to gorge yourself too much by eating them all at once, too much tends to have negative side effects apparently. _

_ Hermione’ _

Harriet furrowed her brow in confusion before turning back to the box of chocolates and glancing over it. Only to flush bright red at the realization of why Hermione would have found ‘calming draught infused chocolates’ so amusing.

Tracey leaned over slightly to read the box, only to fall back cackling. “Oh Merlin! Hermione’s got a sense of humor to her at least.” Harriet glared at her friend, cheeks still firmly red before she glanced down at the box of chocolates at the sound of a small thump. Apparently Kevin had pieced together the ‘joke’, because the Bowtruckle was doing the equivalent of laughing uncontrollably at her expense.

It was another nearly five minutes before Harriet managed to get the two to stop laughing (courtesy of a couple of stinging hexes). 

“Yeah,  _ real _ funny! Just wait until you start needing this stuff for yourself! Apparently they’re for helping my anger issues according to the letter, not that I have to worry about that  _ other _ reason for another year or two at least.”

She set the box off to the side, along with a mental note to hex Hermione’s hair bright pink the moment she got back to the castle after break, before grabbing the small package from Pansy and reading the small note on top.

_ ‘Harriet, happy holidays.  _

_ Try not to get into too much trouble with this thing, or I’ll send it right back to the shop I found it in. Also, try not to let Snape see you with it, he’s not too fond of the idea of his students carrying around legally grey books before at least their third year. _

_ Pansy’ _

Harriet raised a brow at that before peeling the paper away from the copy of ‘A beginner’s guide to Neutral Curses and Hexes’. She wasn’t sure how ‘neutral’ the book could really be when it used ‘curses and hexes’ as part of the title, but it certainly looked interesting at least.

_ ‘Oooo. And it’s even a first edition copy too. Neat!’ _

Tracey peered at the book with a pointedly raised brow after unwrapping a set of new quills from her aunt. “I’m pretty sure that books actually illegal in Britain, at least to the degree that you’d end up having to pay a heavy fine and the book would be burned if anyone within the Ministry caught you reading from it. My grandmother used to collect all kinds of books like that one, hell I’m pretty sure she actually has her own copy of this one  _ specifically _ somewhere. There’s all kinds of nasty little spells in it according to her.”

Harriet nodded in understanding before setting the book on top of the box of chocolate with a mental note to start reading over it before bed.

“Oh, that was kinda sweet of them. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle apparently chipped in collectively to get this one for both of us since they don’t know what else to get. Apparently it’s from Honeydukes, and don’t worry, there’s bound to be some things in it that you’ll like, miss nonexistent sweet tooth.” Tracey proceeded to haul a giant box out from the back of the tree, a label on it with ‘To Harriet and Tracey to share as you please’ stamped on top.

Tearing off the wrapping paper, because Tracey had a bloody giant sweet tooth herself even if Harriet didn’t, they opened the flaps of the box, only to stare in slight shock at the variable hoard of candy and sweets inside of it.

“Dear god, did they empty the whole store?! There has to be several of everything that Honeydukes even sells!” Harriet shook her head in shock before reaching into the box and pulling out what looked like a muggle lollipop in a bright green wrapper that read ‘Acid Pops’ in colorful lettering.

“Oh, careful with those ones. They can literally burn your tongue if you aren’t careful, kinda like actual acid. Nothing a quick episkey can’t fix, but it still burns like mad.” 

Harriet raised a brow at that. “Huh, sounds slightly dangerous, and kinda neat.” Tracey looked worried when she pulled the wrapper off and stuck the bright green lollipop in her mouth, only for Harriet’s face to pinch greatly a few seconds later.

“Are you okay?” She shook her head slightly and waved her off.

“ ‘m ‘ine.” She pulled the acid pop out of her mouth to speak clearer. “I’m fine. They definitely burn a bit, but it’s more like extremely sour instead of how you described it. Not bad actually, I’ve always had a thing for sour candy growing up. At least this is one that Dudley won’t be hogging anytime we owl-order any treats in the future. More for me I guess.” 

Tracey stared at her in shock before shaking her head with a small grin. “You are strange sometimes Harriet. You can have them then, I’m not a fan of sour candy, especially not ones I need to keep a healing spell at the ready for when I want to enjoy them. But I call dibs on the chocolate frogs. I’m almost certain that I can find at least a few cards I don’t already have.”

Harriet chuckled at her friend’s obsession with collecting chocolate frog cards. She was more fixated on them then even Draco, and the boy was still terrified of Tracey after the last time he accidentally ruined one of her cards by spilling pumpkin juice on Albus Dumbledore’s biography blurb. Blaise had considered it a miracle that the other boy had escaped the common room in a mad sprint with only a busted lip and sprained nose.

“Deal. But since there’s only a couple of acid pops and like twenty chocolate frogs, I get the ice mice and Treacle fudge.”

Tracey snorted. “Done. I don’t care for those much anyhow.”

Harriet didn’t know how anyone could turn aside treacle fudge. If there was a better desert in the world, she was more than content leaving it unknown to her. Mostly because that would mean she’d want less treacle fudge, which was an insult to even think about. Pansy had thought her dramatic the first time Dudley had talked about her love of the desert, until she nearly stabbed Flint’s hand with a fork when he’d tried to take the last piece one night in November, the utensil missing at the last second by barely a millimeter.

Slytherin house was quick to adapt the rule of ‘last piece of treacle fudge belongs to Harriet’ after that.

After dividing up the box of sweets into piles of what they wanted- splitting anything not already claimed evenly into equal amounts for both- Harriet pulled the last two presents left under the tree with her name on them.

Harriet was surprised to see a small book-shaped package from Snape of all people. She removed the wrapping paper, only to snort at the title on the front cover. 

“ _‘Mind Magic’s and the Art of Shielding Your Mind From Enemies’_? That’s not ominous at all.” Tracey stated after reading the title herself.

Harriet just shrugged. “Snape talked about Occlumency a few days after the start of term. He said it was a useful ability to try and develop as a precaution. Lot of Dark wizard’s apparently know Legilimency well enough that an unprotected mind would just a stupid risk to take. This will probably come in handy at some point. The idea of people being able to see inside my mind is just creepy in a violating sort of way.” 

Tacey nodded in agreement. “I’ll say. Mum’s been trying to teach me the basics of Occlumency for a few months before coming here. I’ve only some basic understanding of the concepts, but haven’t been able to make any decent ‘mental shields’ like she described. Then again, eleven year old kids shouldn’t have to be experts at blocking mind control, so it’ll probably just take a bit of time to get the hang of it properly. What’s that one?” She pointed to the lumpy wrapped bundle to Harriet’s right and she shrugged.

“Not sure, haven’t exactly opened it yet.” Tracey rolled her eyes before gasping at the strange piece of fabric that Harriet soon pulled from the wrapping paper in confusion.

“Is this supposed to be a cloak or something? It’s bloody huge!”

“I think I know what that is, but try it on first. I want to be sure of my hunch.”

Harriet shrugged before standing up and draping the cool fabric around her shoulders. Tracey gasped in shock. 

“It is! You’re invisible from the neck down! It’s an invisibility cloak!” Harriet peered down at herself only to stumbled slightly at the fact that her body had indeed vanished from sight.

“Woah…” Kevin poked his head out of the pile of wrapping paper he had dived into a few minutes ago, only to stare at her in pure confusion and make a baffled sounding chatter sound.

“That thing is bloody rare! I’ve never seen one in person before, the ministry keeps any recently made ones under heavy supervision. Oh, there’s a card in the wrapping, what does it say?”

Harriet removed the cloak and sat back on the floor before plucking the small card out of the wrapping paper.

_ ‘Your father left this in my care shortly before he died. It is time that it was returned to you as it should be. Use it well.’  _

“It...belonged to my father apparently. Whoever sent it apparently was holding onto it after he leant it to them. But it doesn’t have a name anywhere. Odd.” She muttered with a frown.

Harriet wasn’t really sure how to feel exactly. On one hand, she’d never been able to remember anything about her parents from before they were killed. The name ‘Potter’ was one that had never had much meaning or significance to her. But after reading about how her parents had sacrificed their lives to try and keep her safe, had fought in a war for the sole purpose of creating a world that lived in peace for her to grow up in safely and without worry. She’d finally started to understand what the other kids in primary school had meant when they talked about feeling proud of their parents. But this? This cloak was something that had  _ belonged _ to them, had belonged to her  _ father  _ nonetheless. To Harriet, it was as though it finally hit home that they were real people, who had given everything possible to protect her, that she’d been loved by them and not hated like Vernon had spent years spitting in her face.

“I- think I need some time to think.” She muttered upon noticing the slightly worried look on Tracey’s face. “I’ll be down in a bit, this is just a bit too much to process right now.” The other girl nodded.

“I’ll clean this up, don’t worry about it. You do what you have to, If you haven’t come down by the time it’s half an hour before the feast starts, I’ll check in on you if you want?”

Harriet nodded and offered a small thankful smile. “Thanks Tracey. I appreciate the offer.” She gathered the small pile of presents into her arms before walking up the stairs to the shared dormitory before depositing it all on her nightstand table for now, minus the cloak. She sat down on her bed distractedly before calling quietly, “Death?”

The familiar chill in the air signaled his presence as he teleported into the room. 

“You called- is that my old  _ cloak _ ?” Harriet glanced up in slight confusion before shrugging.

“Not sure, someone gave it to me as a Christmas gift this morning. Apparently it belonged to my father before he was killed.” She watched as Death ran a long, boney thin finger along the edge of the invisibility cloak before humming.

“This  _ is _ my cloak. One of the three hallows I gifted to the Peverell brother’s nearly a thousand years ago now. The youngest requested a cloak that would hide him even from my sight, so he could live his life without having to spend it looking over his shoulder for when I would come to reap him. So I gave him my cloak of invisibility. Old Ignotus was certainly the craftiest of the three, and the wisest when it came to what gift he desired from me, the little cheat. His brother’s just asked for a wand with no equal and a stone that could recall the spirit of his deceased sister he never had the chance to say goodbye to before her death, but he was the only one truly clever enough to have the mind to ask for the ability to further hide from and evade me. Cadmus, the middle brother, always was a bit of a sap when it came to sentimentality, not that I could blame him for it really.” Death hummed. 

“Everyone  _ always _ forgets about little Iola, their sister and the youngest of the four. The story says she was Cadmus’ lover, but that was always the part they got wrong after the story was passed down for so many years. Wizard’s love a good tragic love story more than a tale of a brother saying his goodbyes to his only sister.”

“That’s so sad. I would have much rather heard that version of the story over some depressing tale of romance.” Death nodded in agreement. “What about the third brother? The one who asked for the wand?”

Death’s eyes widened slightly at the thought. “Oh yes.  _ Antioch _ . An unpleasantly spiteful little man. He reveled in the idea of having ‘cheated’ me, not realizing that I would still inevitably come for him when his time was at its end. He had a habit of picking fights with numerous wizards over the years, and there was one he could never beat but who would never give in to the urge and just kill the fool and be done with it. Well, Antioch didn’t like that very much, you see, he felt it was an insult that this other wizard refused to give him the honor of a duel to the death. Idiot.” Death rolled his eyes and scoffed, much to Harriet’s amusement.

“He asked me for a wand that would be powerful enough to defeat the wizard he viewed as his sworn enemy and rival, a wand more powerful than any other in the world. So I did. And it was quite the piece of wandwork, for my first attempt at creating an all powerful wand of immense power, that is. Fifteen inches of Elder wood, that encased a single Thestral tail hair as it’s core. Exceptionally powerful, and without any other wand in existence being able to claim to match it’s raw strength.” Death tilted his head slightly. “Of course, I never mentioned the fact that Thestral’s don’t enjoy being bound by any one ‘master’ for long, and the same was to be said for the wand that contained a core made from one’s hair. Antioch got what he wanted and killed the wizard who he hated, but the idiot boasted about the wand of Elder making him invincible. Fool got his throat slit the same night by another wizard when he was passed out from too much ale.”

“So, this cloak is the one that belonged to the youngest brother? The cloak that allowed him to hide from you for  _ years _ ?” Death nodded.

“And the only Hallow that has never seen blood being spilled for possession of it, unlike the other two, not many wish to hide from me so much as to claim to have 'defeated' me. I doubt there’s more than a handful of owners of the Elder wand who can say they earned it’s loyalty without killing it’s prior owner. And many have killed for the chance to see their loved ones one final time, though the stone only creates a pale imitation of life that leaves the spirit in anguish if they are kept in that state for too long.” He stared pointedly at her.

“Make no mistake there Harriet. Master of Death or not, there is no true way of bringing the dead back to this world as they were in life. Not unless you wish to try striking a deal with a demon in exchange for your soul as payment first.”

Harriet shook her head. “I know that. I wouldn’t risk something that dangerous just to see my parents again for however briefly I’d have left for such a deal. You’ve spent the last half a decade drilling into my head how important it was to respect the natural balance between the living and the dead.” 

Death nodded with a satisfied hum. “Good. I had to make sure though, there are some who worry about the power that is wielded by someone with your title. At least I can rest easy knowing you’re not about to be summoning any demons to make idiotic deals with. I taught you better than to act like a fool.”

Harriet chuckled, before frowning at a thought. “You said that the resurrection stone could at least temporarily recall a loved one’s spirit. Like Cadmus did to say goodbye to his sister?”

Death nodded once more. “You wish to do the same for your parents.” It wasn’t a question. Harriet released a sigh before nodding.

“I- yeah. I know what you said about bringing them back for real, and I understand that’s impossible. But I was hoping I could at least talk to them, at least once. For closure, I guess.”

Death sighed before shaking his head slightly. “If it were possible, I wouldn’t even hesitate to summon the stone here and now. But it’s beyond me to do so for the reason you ask.” He held up a hand when Harriet went to complain. “You need to understand something Harriet, something that happened that night your parents were killed by the man the wizarding world knows as Voldemort. Something I had wished to only tell you about when you were a bit older, because of the unpleasant nature of it.” Harriet closed her mouth before nodding begrudgingly.

“The night your parents died in Godric’s Hollow, in the same village the Peverell brothers were buried in fact, Voldemort- the man I know truly as Tom Riddle, did not enter your family’s house alone.” Her brows pinched together in confusion.

“You see, Tom Riddle is not like other dark wizards who came before him. He delved into magics that even Herpo the Foul refused to so much as consider because of how twisted, how vile they truly were. He delved into soul magic, twisted and tearing at his own life force, his own soul, until it lay shattered and broken into six fragments including his main soul within his body. He proceeded to hide these fragment’s within seven objects in an effort to render himself immortal in a way. And in a sense, he succeeded. I could not claim his soul when his curse backfired that night, because the fragments- his Horcruxes, yet lived on. So long as even one remained undamaged, his soul would never move on into heaven or hell.”

“So the rumors of Dumbledore’s belief that he’s not really gone is actually right?” Death nodded.

“Oh yes, Tom still lives, if you can call it that. He’s been reduced to a shade of his former self, with barely a wisp of his power remaining. Forced to possess others to do his bidding. But Horcruxes are not the limit to his dark practices. When I mentioned he did not come to Godric’s Hollow alone, it was because he had summoned and bound something in service of him. Something worse than any demon of hell, worse than any foul creature or monster you can imagine.”

“Well that sounds pleasant.” Harriet bit out sarcastically, much to Death’s unamusement.

“I assure you, it is not. Most wizard’s in the oldest cultures known to mankind have barely heard even the faintest whisper of this creature, and yet Tom was able to not only learn about it, but to also summon and control one. A Soul Eater.” Harriet felt her blood chill at that.

“Perhaps one of the most foul and twisted creatures in all of creation, a Soul Eater is a relentless hunter that stalks its prey to the ends of the world in search of its next meal. Tom Riddle used the Soul Eater he bound to devour the souls of your parents after he killed them. Ordinarily, the victim remains in a state of suspended animation for years as the Soul Eater consumes and weakens their soul. However-”

“That didn’t happen this time. Because he killed them first, which probably meant the Soul Eater could fully consume their souls.” Death nodded.

“Exactly. It is a fate worse than just death. It is an insult against myself and my reapers because we cannot claim the soul and guide them to where they are meant to go in the afterlife. The soul exists in a state of eternal suffering as the Soul Eater draws strength from them. I would have destroyed the creature myself, it wasn’t for the fact that the moment you destroyed Tom, the binding was shattered on it and the Soul Eater fled from this realm into its nest. A realm that I cannot enter, nor can any besides the Soul Eater itself and the souls of its victims.”

“So my parents can’t even have the decency to rest? They’re souls are in eternal damnation and suffering because of that  _ thing _ ?!” 

“I regret that the answer is yes. If it were within my power, I would give them the peace they had both earned in life in an instant.”

Harriet shook her head slightly as her hands shook from anger.

“It just wasn’t enough to kill them.” Death raised a brow slightly at her words. “It wasn’t enough for him to kill them when they had no possible way of stopping him that night. He had to make them suffer as much as possible and to mock you as much as possible in the process. Well fuck that. I’m not just going to sit back and do  _ nothing _ !”

“Harriet-”

“ _No_! You don’t understand where I’m coming from here, not really. If I sit back and do nothing, then he wins. If I don’t do anything, and let him continue trying to ruin lives, then...then they died for nothing. My parents died to not only save me, but to make sure Voldemort was gone for good. I’m not going to let their sacrifice be in vain.”

Death tilted his head slightly. “And what do you plan to do about it exactly? An eleven year old witch with barely any training in using her magic, against the most dangerous dark wizard in the last thousand years? You’d be swatted like a fly.”

“So help me.” He raised a brow at that. “You know how he’s made himself unkillable, and you can probably find a way to track down these Horcruxes of his and how to destroy them. So that’s where we start- we find them, one by one, no matter where he’s hidden them. And we destroy every  _ fucking _ last one of them. Then, we let his main soul regain a body again, like he’s probably been trying to do for the last decade. When he does, we make sure he’s mortal already with no Horcruxes to fall back on. Then, we kill him, once and for all.”

Death hummed lightly at her words before waving a hand through the air lightly. “I take it you have more in mind than just Tom Riddle’s destruction?” Harriet nodded, face red from her growing anger.

“Absolutely. I want revenge, but also to see my parents freed from their torment eventually. He had to use a spell to summon the Soul Eater in the first place, right? So I have to track down where he found it, if not get my hands on the copy he used. Then, I summon that fucking abomination again, bind it in place, and figure out a way to bloody kill it.”

“I suppose it’s not a half bad idea, in theory. But you know it won’t be an easy thing to pull off fully, yes? You won’t have your revenge in time to finish your exams this year, Dark Lord and Soul Eater, all nice and dead in advance.”

Harriet nodded. “I know. And I’m fine with that fact, I don’t care if it takes a year, or five or a hundred. I’m not sitting by twiddling my thumbs while practising how to turn a snuff box into a mouse when my parent’s murderer is still out in the world, alive. It’s going to haunt my dreams until the day I can look Tom Riddle in the eye as the light leaves his own and you drag his soul straight to hell’s deepest bloody pit. Then, I can focus on the thing that has my parent’s souls in its stomach right now while it takes a nap, thinking it’s nice and unreachable.”

Death nodded. “Very well. If that’s what you wish, then I’ll help however I can. Until term starts again in a week, I will lend a few books on more advanced magic for you to study the theory for in your free time. But this is only a minor thing to focus on for now, you’re here to learn and study magic like your peers. I’ll provide you the basis for a leg up, but nothing more until at least the Summer, am I clear?”

Harriet nodded. “Crystal. Until the Horcruxes are dealt with, Tom’s not worth worrying about too much yet anyhow. I’ll try and keep my mind on school and any books you think can help me in the future.”

“Good. I promise you Harriet, we  _ will _ deal with Tom and the Soul Eater when the time is right. For now you have to keep your mind on the here and now instead of something that is several years away at best.”

“I know. And thanks, for being willing to help me with this at all.” Death smirked slightly.

“I’m not without something to gain in this either you know. Tom Riddle has been a mocking thorn in my side for nearly seventy years now. I’ve been itching to reap him, and your plan paints the clearest path that I can see to accomplishing that little goal of mine. I suppose you could count it as me being selfish.”

Harriet giggled. “For wanting Tom dead? Somehow, I think I can ignore your selfishness for this cause.” She held a hand over her mouth as she yawned into it, the emotional turmoil of the morning hitting her full force.

“Get some rest. You’ll need it if you want to enjoy the lovely feast that the house elves have been preparing. It would be a shame if you missed it from passing out due to exhaustion.”

Harriet laid down in her bed, the cloak wrapped around herself lightly. “Death? If Ignotus had the cloak originally, how did it end up in my father’s possession?”

“The Potter’s are direct descendants of Ignotus. Your father’s ancestor, Hardwin Potter, married Ignotus’ granddaughter Iolanthe. It was passed down from father to son once she died until it ended up with James Potter, your father. And now it’s rightfully been returned to your hands.” Harriet hummed.

“What was Ignotus really like? You mentioned he was the wisest of the three.” 

“He was. And he had quite the temper when it came to his family, a trait I’m almost certain passed it’s way all the way down to you. In fact, I’ll tell you a little story of how Ignotus nearly traumatized the man who would go on to marry his daughter. It’s quite the amusing tale actually. It started with a humorous misunderstanding between the two men, involving a unicorn, three kegs of aged rum, and three Finnish hens...” 

Harriet drifted to sleep as Death spun the tale of what he called ‘the most interesting attempt at asking someone for their daughter’s hand in marriage’ that he had ever witnessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the reader's who are fine with the additional incorporation of the Supernatural universe, I thank you for being willing to stick around and not drop this crazy attempt at a fic quite yet lol. 
> 
> The Soul Eater mentioned in this chapter, is a creature that I fully am basing off of the same named version that is in Supernatural's canon. I contemplated just having Tom use a Dementor as the reason why Death wouldn't have been able to claim James and Lily's soul back in the first chapter, but that's what would be expected and I didn't want to do the same boring creature that anyone could use really. Plus, I personally absolutely HATE Dementors on the level of how they represent depression and hopelessness. That's not what I wanted to use as the creature that Harriet's privately made her top target on 'things to kill as violently and painfully as possible' list. Besides, Tom would have killed James and Lily before sicing any 'pet' as Death refers to it in chapter one, on their souls, and I don't recall it being stated that a dementor can actually consume a soul after a person is already dead, even if it happened a few seconds after they died. So no Dementor's outside of the ones in third year, and even those I plan to be very minor outside of Harriet possibly being a badass in kicking their ghostly asses lol.
> 
> Now excuse me while I contemplate the horror that is a bowtruckle wearing a christmas sweater and having a green afro made of leaves...


	14. A Marauder is Born, and Hogwarts will Burn Within a Week

Harriet woke to the sound of light knocking on the dorm room door. 

“Harriet? Are you alright? The feast is starting in half an hour, and you already missed breakfast  _ and _ lunch.” Tracey’s worried voice called quietly from the other side of the door as she dragged herself out of bed again before heading over to it and opening it to greet her friend.

“I’m fine. Fell asleep at some point amidst feeling bad for myself over my parent’s deaths I guess.” Tracey shook her head.

“You don’t have to apologize for something like that. Despite being a terror who half the school is afraid of, you are still human. Emotions aren’t something you should be upset about.” Harriet’s stomach chose that moment to add it’s opinion on the matter, much to both of their amusement as they laughed. “Come on, the House elves will probably happily bring us dinner a bit earlier. They were so sad that you missed two meals today that they kinda took to filling one of the tables in the common room with ‘cheer up’ cookies and hot chocolate. Snape wasn’t too happy about that, until I mentioned this morning was a bit hard for you because of the cloak from your dad.”

Harriet raised a brow as they walked out of the common room. “Seriously, Snape okayed sugary food being left in the common room despite me being one of few students in our house who stayed behind?” Tracey nodded.

“Well he seemed really angry over something to do with the cloak before he stormed out of the common room in a huff. I’m pretty sure he was muttering ‘senile old goat’ and something about ‘beard thinner induced senile-ness’. Not sure what that was about though.”

“Sounds like he was referring to Professor Dumbledore. Maybe he’s the one who gave me the cloak in the first place? And maybe Snape was worried that something like that would be too overwhelming for me to handle, and he was upset at Dumbledore for going through with it in the first place? Who knows, guess we’ll see how they interact when the feast starts.”

Their questions were answered the minute they walked into the Great Hall, the normally four large house tables having been replaced with a single one due to the smaller number of students that had remained. Harriet and Tracey starred in slight horror at the sight of Dumbledore with the equivalent of what must have been an entire bowl of lemon drops stuck in his beard and his robes slightly singed in places while Snape glared at him murderously from several seats away.

“Ah, Harriet. It’s good to see you up and about in time for the feast, Professor Snape here informed me that you were feeling rather under the weather earlier.” Harriet nodded slightly.

“Are you alright, Professor? You look kinda like someone assaulted you with lemon candies and set your robes on fire.” Dumbledore chuckled warmly.

“Quite fine. My familiar, Fawkes, simply endured his annual burning day earlier. Quite unexpectedly, I might add. I wasn’t expecting him to go up in flames for another several days at least. He’s always fond of making me worry too much by trying to drag it out as long as possible. Phoenixes can be quite spiteful companions, if they are given the reason to be.”

“Hagrid did mention your familiar would get lonely anytime you had to leave for long periods of time suddenly. Maybe he’s paying you back for that?”

“Hmm. I suppose that  _ would _ be enough of a reason in his humble opinion. I’ll have to start bringing him along on those trips when I can from here on out, I’m certain that would improve his mood partially.” Tracey spoke up as they took their seats next to Fred and George, who seemed to be poking around at a couple of wizard crackers, to Snape’s irritation.

“And the candy? Are they the result of your phoenix's moodiness, or just a new fashion statement of some kind to clash with your robes?” Dumbledore chuckled once more.

“Ah, no. They were not so much intentional on my part- the result of a rather stubborn series of sticking charms I’m afraid. Though I must agree with you, Miss Davis. They would certainly make for an interesting addition to my wardrobe I think. Perhaps with bright, lime green robes to really make my beard pop!”

Harriet felt her inner color coordinator cringe at the idea. “Please don’t! I think my heart would literally give out at that level of clashiness. At least restrict the lemon detailing to just a hat rather than your beard. Edible beard decorations are horribly out of date, even by wizarding standards. Er, no offense sir.”

Snape looked as though he was seconds from strangling her when Dumbledore let out a full-bellied laugh.

“I must admit, I would not have expected you to have such a firm stance on the matter, Harriet. Most would assume me to be completely senile when it comes to modern trends, rather than choosing to remain blissfully oblivious to them of my own choice in the matter.”

“For Merlin’s sake, if you two continue this much longer, you’ll be exchanging knitting advice before desert.” Tracey complained, much to Harriet’s embarrassment.

“Sure, throw me under the bloody bus. Thanks Tracey.” She muttered, even as Dumbledore looked at her with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Why, Harriet, I had no idea you were interested in such things as knitting. I would very much enjoy exchanging a word or two about your opinions on the topic, if you wouldn’t mind humoring an old man of course. Most wizards, and even witches these days don’t appreciate the simplicity with turning a ball or two of yarn into a piece of art- let alone a practical one you can wear.” Fred and George snickered slightly.

Harriet shot them both a glare. “One word from either of you two, and the next thing I take a knitting needle to will be your mouths. And I doubt Professor Snape will mind in the slightest if you two suddenly were left mute in his class.” Snape shot the twin menaces a sadistic smirk.

“By all means Potter. Please, ease my suffering for the remainder of the year at least. Bonus points if you can make the stitching remain until next year at the least.”

Harriet drew a knitting needle out of her sleeve, to Fred and George’s horror, Tracey’s bafflement, and Dumbledore’s amusement at her sadistic grin.

“Now now, Severus. While I’m certain Mr and Mr Weasley here have their fair share of causing mischief over the last three years, I’m certain it’s not to the level of warranting young Harriet here to permanently disfigure both of them in such a way.” Snape rolled his eyes while muttering ‘debatable’ under his breath as Harriet tucked the needle away with a slight pout.

“Darn it. And I was really looking forward to studying the effects of the heating charms woven into the yarn If they’re stitched into human flesh.” Tracey swatted her over the back of the head with her hand, a warning scowl on her face.

“Stop contemplating something so morbid ten minutes before we’re set to eat! Or do I have to tell Pansy and Hermione when they get back that you were getting into trouble again, not one week with them gone? Let alone that you’re contemplating physical harm against a student while the headmaster is right in front of you, and why are you chuckling sir?”

Dumbledore was indeed chuckling at the two of them before shaking his head lightly. “Oh, no reason Miss Davis. I was simply recalling a time during my years at Hogwarts when Harriet’s plots here mirrored some of my own schemes involving knitting needles.”

Harriet felt her jaw drop slightly as the twins looked back and forth between themselves and the headmaster with looks of equal shock on their faces.

“Are you kidding right now, er- sir? You used to get up to trouble when you were a student here, with  _ knitting needles _ ?” Fred looked close to breaking down into laughter at the mere idea as Dumbledore hummed with a slight nod.

“Oh yes. I may be a tad of a stickler for rules these days, my role as headmaster, sadly, limits how far I can stretch my capacity for mischief without it seeming inappropriate. In fact, I’d even attempted to have a small book on the subject published once, in a joke shop of course mind you. Sadly it never became quite as popular a sell as I’d hoped it would. A shame really.”

“Please tell me you still have a spare copy somewhere Professor? Or know where I can find one at least, because that sounds like a bloody fascinating read. Especially if it means some respect for knitting can be drilled into these two lunatic’s skulls.” She pointed a thumb at Fred and George who shot her equal looks of offense, even as Dumbledore chuckled.

“Of course I do. I haven’t been able to sell more than one or two copies in the last fifty years, but I could never bring myself to just get rid of them.” Dumbledore held his hand up in the middle of the air and just sat there for a few seconds. Harriet raised a brow slightly until a small book flew through the air and past the open doors of the Great Hall before landing firmly in the headmaster’s grasp.

“I’ve  _ got _ to learn how to cast the summoning charm that easily.” She muttered before blinking in surprise when Dumbledore handed the book over to her, which she took carefully before inspecting the cover.

“Um, just how old is this book? Because this seems like a bit more than fifty years of accumulated dust and slight wear and tear?” She asked after noting  _ ‘Unorthodox uses for household Arts and Crafts Charms’ _ across the front.The cover looked as though it had endured all manner of spellfire for at  _ least _ a near century.

“That particular one is one of the very first copies I’d written, around the Summer of 1901. I had spent some time traveling after I graduated from Hogwarts, and had come upon the idea for writing such a book after noting how successful at the time prank books were becoming. Sadly, only a few saw any worthwhile comedic value behind my custom little Arts and Crafts prank charms.”

Harriet looked up from the book with a raised brow. “But why are you giving this to me of all people? Sure, I enjoy knitting and a bit of sewing as a hobby, mostly with my aunt who got me hooked on it in the first place. But I’m hardly the pranking type.”

“Consider it as an old man fulfilling a friend’s wish after they could no longer do so themselves. Your father, James, was quite the prankster himself in his schooldays. He would likely have found a way to crawl out of his grave and haunt me if I tried to discourage his only child from causing your own bit of mischief.”

“Seriously? My dad was a prankster?! Dear god, that must have been some chaotic times for Hogwarts to endure. I guess if it’s kinda my parent’s legacy to follow in, I could certainly give it a shot to pull off at least one or two pranks.” Snape was glaring at Dumbledore with pure murder in his eyes while Fred and George snickered.

“Look here George, the little firstie is going to try and come after our crown of pranking.”

“Adorable Fred, I almost want to help her, just so she doesn’t embarrass herself trying to outmatch us with something like a whoopee cushion.”

Harriet matched Snape’s murder glare. “I hope you realise, Professor Dumbledore, that you’ve just given me permission to wage war against these two. And I aim to  _ win _ .”

Professor McGonagall picked that moment to stroll into the Great Hall, only to sputter in shock at Harriet’s words. “Wha-  _ a prank war?! _ And is that that  _ blasted _ pranking book you insisted on writing years ago Albus?! Our job is  _ not _ to encourage such behavior in the students!”

Dumbledore held up an abating hand. “Now Minerva, I’m certain these three will keep their shenanigans and prank wars to a minimum once term starts up again. But I see no harm in it within the next week, with so few students remaining to get caught in the crossfire.”

The headmaster had just okayed a bloody _prank war?!_ Suddenly, Harriet was finding her opinion of the old man was at an all-time high, especially with her growing desire to see Fred and George admit defeat by the time she was through with them.

“If either of you three bring this ridiculous war into the common room, I will not hesitate in assigning detentions for all of you until the end of the year. Am I clear.” Snape growled menacingly, a glare directed at Harriet and the twins as they all nodded.

“Of course Professor. We would never bring such childish shenanigans into our most sacred common room.” George said.

“Honestly, we’re not so foolish as to purposely provoke your fury in such a blatant way.” Fred assured, not that Snape looked even slightly appeased in the least.

Tracey leaned over slightly to whisper in her ear. “You’re all going to bring the castle to ruins before the week is over, aren’t you?” Harriet shrugged lightly and Tracey groaned. “Lovely. And I’m probably going to be dragged into it, aren’t I?” Another nod and a giant grin.

“Absolutely! I need someone to even out the two person advantage Fred and George have by working as a team. Stupid twin telepathy probably means they almost never get caught in the act, until after the prank is triggered. Besides, it’s not like the headmaster can expel us for pulling pranks or anything, it was  _ his _ idea in the first place! Technically at least. He gave me the book on it!”

Tracey shook her head in exasperation. “Hermione and Pansy are going to kill both of us for this when they get back, I hope you realise. But why the hell not, we got nothing else to focus on really with our homework for the break already done.”

“If that would keep you two from staging a prank war, I can gladly assign more if you wish? A few dozen essays will keep your minds occupied well into the start of term I should expect.” McGonagall threatened.

“Minerva, there’s no need to be so strict. They’re children after all, and children should be allowed to enjoy themselves with whatever pursuits catch their interest. This, and Madam Pince has kindly asked me to, as she quoted ‘drag Harriet away from the Ancient Runes section of the library before she blows up the school’. A few harmless pranks is just the distraction the girl could use, encourages physical activity and creative thinking all at once.”

McGonagall and Snape ended up spending the rest of the feast in a competition for the most murderous glare directed at Professor Dumbledore, though Harriet privately thought Snape’s was just a tad more fear-inducing. Likely because of the pitch black eyes that were bloody unnerving most of the time. That, and any time McGonagall glared at her, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the fact that the woman could change into a cat at any moment she wanted, which kinda ruined the effect slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore was a prankster in his own right during his years at Hogwarts, and no one can argue otherwise! 
> 
> Short little fluff-filled chapter this time to wrap up Christmas day in a happy tone, like all Harry Potter Christmas mornings should be lol. Next chapter will probably be a good deal longer like the usual, between the pranking war, term picking back up, etc. 
> 
> We're nearing the end of first year, I've got maybe one or two good chapters planned before Harriet and Quirrell's face off for the stone lol. It'll almost certainly happen a good bit earlier in the year compared to canon, because I ain't letting the tiny terror who could give Hermione a run for the tittle of nerdy bookworm, miss out on her end of year exams lol. I think Harriet would quite literally end up killing someone if she was forced to miss them, and then Death would be annoyed for her forcing him to reap someone unscheduled, which he hates lol.


	15. Chapter 15

Harriet should have expected the twins would strike first in their little prank war. So it was honestly a shock that she hadn’t seen it coming when they managed to lace the morning pumpkin juice at breakfast the morning after Christmas day with Dizziness Draught.

The sight of Percy Weasley trying to stand up after finishing his own plate of food, only to collapse a moment later in a disoriented heap would have been hysterical, if Harriet wasn’t currently trying to keep the Great Hall from spinning around so much as the twins started snickering.

“Your move Harriet. And please, do try to make it something a tad bit creative at least. It’s not a prank war if you bore someone to sleep with your artsy crafty little prank spells.” Fred taunted as the other dozen students around the Great Hall started to realize just what was done to their drinks, everyone trying to stand only to trip over their own feet from the dizziness.

Harriet just narrowed her eyes slightly at the taunt, only to huff out a sigh when Tracey landed on the ground after making an attempt at ‘running off’ the potions, as she tried reasoning.

“Okay, note to self. Never rely on Tracey for help with a potions-themed prank. Noted. She may end up dosing herself somehow.” Harriet muttered before turning back to the page on color change charms in the book Dumbledore had given her, an idea already forming in her mind as she smirked at the thought.

_‘I wonder if Ron would want a photo as a keepsake? I’m sure he’ll get the most kick out of it.’_

When it was time for dinner that same day, Harriet couldn’t help but smirk in a slightly evil way as Tracey tapped her foot impatiently.

“Are you sure they even went back to the common room by now? It’s not gonna work if they didn’t.”

“Shh. They went back. I rigged the set of charms to trigger specifically for them, and they’ve already set it off and will likely storm through those doors momentarily. I can sense the horror in their souls at how they must look.” Tracey glanced at her wearily.

“Sometimes, you worry me.” The next moment Harriet’s hunch was proven correct when the Weasley twins stormed into the Great Hall, faces barely noticeably red under all the makeup as the handful of students took one look at them and started laughing hysterically.

Because there stood the infamous ‘pranking demon kings of Slytherin house’ dressed up in brightly colored clown outfits- big floppy red shoes, red noses, and rainbow colored afro hairdos and all. Their robes-turned clown outfits charmed to be as offensively brightly colored and clown-like as possible, while their shoes squeaked loudly with every step they took and the afros atop their heads shifted between a veritable rainbow of colors every few seconds.

Kevin had taken one look at them and literally fallen over in his tiny variant of laughter along with the majority of the hall. Even the staff were barely keeping themselves put together, McGonagall hiding her chuckling behind her hand, Flitiwck and Hagrid weren’t even bothering to hide their own amusement. Even _Snape_ had a slightly amused smirk on his face! And Professor Dumbledore had taken one look look at the two, glanced over at Harriet and raised his own goblet in salute.

“You-!”

“Tiny-!”

“Menace!” Fred and George exclaimed upon spotting her cackling at the table. Tracey was hunched over trying not to fall out of her seat from laughing so hard.

“Hey, you two always insist on being the class clowns of the school. So why not dress for the part? I hope you like your new looks, they won’t be going anywhere for a while.”

Fred and George stared at each other in slight fear before stomping over to the table to glare menacingly - or at least attempt to - at her. 

“And why-”

“Is that?!”

Harriet giggled. “The charms I used to pull off this fantastic new look for you? I had to incorporate it into a rune sequence to make casting it on you subtle enough that you wouldn’t immediately spot me doing so, and so it wasn’t a quick flick of the wand to cancel it out. Wouldn’t be much of a prank if it didn’t last a good while first. _Finite Incantatem_ won’t work in the slightest for at _least_ a couple of weeks. The runes have to have a chance to weaken first.”

The twins' jaws fell open in horror at the idea.

“Please tell us you’re bloody _joking_?!”

“We can’t be seen by everyone like this?!”

“Nor can we go to class dressed like a bunch of literal clowns!”

Harriet shrugged. “Next time, don’t mock my capacity to pull off a decent prank just because I’m younger than you. Or I’ll make my next prank much more permanent. I’ve read that blood runes are much more tricky to counteract, what with the far greater strength stored within the blood itself and all.” She grinned sadistically.

“Your move boys, unless you want to call it quits now? But I warn you if you continue, that this was just me getting started with the book. Remind me to send Professor Dumbledore a thankyou gift or something.”

Fred and George shared a look for a few seconds before turning back to her and shaking their heads rapidly. Twin telepathy was bloody weird.

“You sure as hell don’t pull your punches right from the start. This wasn’t what we expected when the headmaster mentioned a prank war.” Goerge said.

“You think up way more complicated ways to make sure your pranks have a lasting impact. The longest we’ve ever managed was turning McLaggen’s hair pink for a week after he shoved a Hufflepuff firstie into a broom closet and locked them in for an hour after learning they had claustrophobia.”

She remembered Hermione telling her about that after the prick was seen with glittering pink hair for over a week roughly a month ago. Harriet felt bad for Hannah, knowing all too well the fear that someone could have with being locked in a dark cramped space. She had asked Hermione to check if Hannah would like to join their growing study group, and the girl had accepted gladly.

Harriet still wasn’t really sure how her letting Hermione sit at the same table as her in the library one day had turned into a full blown study group in less than four months, but she surprisingly wasn’t complaining much about it. It was only a small handful of students in their year after all; Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Hannah, Tracey recently, and herself. But she could happily say that it was a group of people she could consider friends, if hesitantly regarding Ron and Hannah. She still wasn’t the biggest fan of Ron’s oftentimes rude personality at times, and Hannah had been a very recent addition to the group that Harriet just hadn’t had the chance to get to know much yet.

Her initial hunch during the train ride had proven an accurate one when Dudley had taken to spending most of his time outside of class talking to Vincent and Gregory about sports and other ‘boy things’ that Harriet didn’t have a clue about, nor did she want to anytime soon. Neville had seemingly befriended Dudley, much to Harriet’s surprise with how timid the boy seemed to be at all times. Her cousin could easily be intimidating, if Dudley wanted to be.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Fred.

“Anyhow, what we’re trying to say here, is that you win. Easily. We could probably barely keep up with you in this ‘war’, but I don’t think Hogwarts would be left standing in one piece by the end of it. So congrats, you’re officially the better prankster in the school. Do what you will with the title, just promise to never prank us again in the future. This is humiliating enough.” George nodded.

“Yep, congrats. Here’s your bloody crown, you’re now the prank queen of Hogwarts. Enjoy, and let us never speak of this moment again.” Harriet raised a brow when he set a ‘crown’ of licorice wands on top of her hair.

“And how long did this take you to pull together?” Fred blushed lightly.

“Oh give us a break! We had to think up something in a hurry on the way to tracking you down so we could hopefully retire our early career as circus clowns! Not our fault George only had a pack of licorice wands shoved in his bag somewhere.”

Harriet shook her head in exasperation, though a small smile took any negativity out of it. “Well thanks I guess. For acknowledging when you knew you were outclassed and about to be in for a long period of getting your butts kicked by an eleven year old little girl. I might just put some stasis charms on this thing to commemorate the great Hogwarts Prank War of 1991. Also the shortest one in the castle’s history.”

The twins rolled their eyes good naturedly as dinner came to an end a few minutes later.

* * *

By the time that break came to an end and the new term started up, Harriet was increasingly swarmed by the idea of Exams being only a few months away now, to even Hermione’s amusement who hadn’t even started worrying about them quite yet.

“Honestly Harriet, you can probably wait until at least another month or so before you start fussing so much about a couple of tests at the end of May.” Harriet had just responded by chucking a sugar quill at the bushy haired girl before turning the page to their charms textbook.

“Exactly why I’m reading through the next couple of chapters that we’re set to go over in class the next few weeks. For once, I’m actually looking forward to doing well on an end of year exam. Never had the chance before.” She muttered distractedly as Pansy and Hermione shared a frown.

“Seriously Harriet, try to relax a bit. You’ve got all of the books memorized, and you’re bloody talented when it comes to Transfiguration and Charms. You’re going to ace those tests even without bothering to study. Now come help me with this Transfiguration Essay McGonagall’s given us. I can’t make heads or tails of it.” Pancy insisted, which finally pulled Harriet out of her _much_ advanced pre-exam study panic- even if it was a total lie. Between Hermione and her help, Pansy was probably the third best student in their year when it came to the class and understanding the content.

“Fine. What do you need help with? The formula still?” Pansy shrugged at the amused look on Harriet’s face at the reminder that it’d taken her two months to get the hang of memorizing that part of the class.

“It still seems stupidly complex! What difference does it make if something’s weight is off? Magic should just be ‘point wand at thing and cast’. Not fancy mathematical crap.”

The brief slip about her past was easily forgotten in that moment with helping her friend, though it wasn’t the case for Pansy and Hermione.

Unbeknownst to Harriet, both of her friends had started to piece together the fact that, if nothing else, her childhood hadn’t been a happy one.

“I mean think about it, Granger!” Pansy exclaimed as they walked around the edge of the Black Lake one afternoon towards the end of February. “We’re basically the first instance of having friends that Harriet’s experienced having before. She and Dudley act about as awkward as someone our age can probably be when it comes to talking to others in public, Harriet’s sure as hell not had much experience learning how to develop a social filter when it comes to her rambling, adorable as it may be sometimes.”

Hermione raised a brow at that but didn’t comment. “I suppose. She is rather small for someone our age. Almost like she’s not had as much to eat over the years- I remember reading about malnourishment in a dietary health book a few years back. Small stature and thin arms and legs are signs that can point to something like that, even if she doesn’t seem quite as severe as some of the pictures I noted.” Pansy nodded in thought.

“So if she _was_ being abused, it’s either a recent thing, or an older one that’s stopped to at least some degree and she’s started at least physically recovering from it. I’m not sure which would be worse.”

“Do you think it’s Dudley’s mom? Harriet did say she grew up being raised by her aunt.” Pansy considered the idea briefly before shaking her head.

“I don’t think that’s likely. Remember what Dudley talked about once a few weeks ago? His mum’s apparently been seeing a muggle specialist about setting him up with a diet when school ends for the summer. She seems to care about his health and safety at least, and Dudley has some signs of early abuse as well, if less severe then Harriet’s. They both struggled with making friends back in primary school remember.”

Hermione nodded. “So what about Harriet’s uncle? Dudley’s dad? Do they even talk about him much at all?”

Pansy shook her head. “Not that I can recall. And I’ve only heard Dudley talking about his mother really. Maybe his dad’s not in the picture anymore? MAybe because he was abusive over the years until Dudley’s mum got fed up with it all and got them out of that situation?”

“That does seem like the only likely scenario. So what do we do about it, tell a teacher? Like Professor Snape? He is Harriet’s Head of House after all, it’s probably part of his job to know stuff like this so he can try and make sure his students are safe.”

Pansy tilted her head in thought. “Now that you say that, I think he might actually already know, if not suspect heavily at least. Ever since around the first week, he’s been keeping a slightly closer eye on Harriet _and_ Dudley when in class. Almost like he’s watching for something, or some sign. He’s also been nicer with some of the Gryffindors in Potions lately. Much less harsh and less prone to insulting them for small mistakes.”

Hermione looked surprised by that. “Really? But Professor Snape hates Gryffindor house. It’s practically a public fact at this point!” 

“And it seems to only be the first years too. Fred and George have Potions with the third year Gryffindors, and Snape’s been downright sadistic to them apparently. But with a weird emphasis against bullying the younger years from what they’ve said. Apparently Snape gave McLaggen a month of detention for that stunt he pulled with Hannah and locking her in the closet.”

Hermione hummed. “So Snape’s not doing it so much as to be spiteful and mean for no reason... He’s doing it to make sure none of the younger students are facing any unnecessary troubles with being away from home for the first time for nearly nine months.”

“That would be my bet. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s had to take aside the prefects over the year so far shortly before new rules were put in place focused around the upper years keeping an eye out for the younger ones regardless of house. It’s a bloody miracle that Harriet keeps her attention in books so much that she hasn’t connected the dots yet.”

“Who says I haven’t?” Pansy and Hermione jumped in fright while releasing shrieks of fear when Harriet spoke up from behind them.

“ _BLOODY FUCKING HELL POTTER!!_ Don’t freaking do that to someone! You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack!” Pansy shouted at the girl, hand clutched over her rapidly beating heart as Hermione nodded rapidly in agreement.

Harriet raised a brow slightly before shrugging. “You’d think people would remember that I tend to be sneaky when I’m in the mood. Also, why are you talking about Snape’s sudden obsession with keeping the under third year students safe? And what does it have to do with me and Dudley?”

“It’s rude to listen in on people’s conversations Harriet.” Another raised brow was directed at Hermione.

“And it’s rude to talk about your friends behind their back. Checkmate, point rendered moot. Now spill before I go to Snape about getting a few bottles of truth serum to use instead.”

“Only if you answer our question first: Is the abuse still going on at home?” Harriet paused in shock before shaking her head in irritation.

“Should have figured you two would figure it out at some point. Bloody dangerous when you work together.” She muttered before shaking her head again. “But to answer your question, no. It’s not still going on, and it hasn’t been for nearly a year now. Not since my aunt divorced my uncle back in March of last year. And before you ask, yes Snape already knows about it, at least vaguely. He pulled me aside during the two week break in December to talk about both my eye and the diagnostic test that Madam Pomfrey had run on me back in September.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything to us before?” Pansy looked hurt by the idea and Harriet rolled her eye slightly.

“What would it have _accomplished_? Besides digging open old scars that I’d rather leave to heal? It’s in the past and been dealt with long before I even came to Hogwarts. My uncle’s out of our lives for good and neither me or Dudley have seen him in person since the day he did this.” She pointed to where the stone eye sat and Pansy and Hermione gasped.

“Wait, your _uncle_ did that?! I figured this whole time that it was an accident or something that happened when you were younger and you didn’t like talking about it.”

“C-can we ask what happened?” Hermione looked close to tears when she posed the question and Harriet shrugged.

“I guess. It doesn’t change anything, nor does it really matter at this point. My aunt was going to take me to get my eyes checked out at the optometrist, because my vision would go blurry a bit in my left eye from time to time. My uncle found out at breakfast and didn’t like the idea of having to possibly pay for glasses for me. Picked up the nearest kitchen knife, shoved my aunt away from me before he grabbed me by the shoulder while waving it around like a madman. Said he would ‘fix the problem at the source’. He- well, suffice it to say that it ended rather unpleasantly by the time he was through. Dudley actually is the reason he didn’t get to go after my other eye in the process- hit his own dad over the head with a nearby flower vase. Knocked him clean out before he even hit the floor. I would have cheered at the time but you know, gouged eye bleeding everywhere.” She shrugged lightly again, as though talking about the weather and not a traumatic injury. 

“My aunt rushed me and my cousin to the nearest hospital after putting a cloth towel over what was left of my eye, where I went through a good few hours of surgery. Not sure how long it was exactly, the doctor’s didn’t say, my aunt was too hysterical, and I didn’t really care much to know at the time. The doctors said I was lucky he didn’t just jam the knife straight in, something about how it would have likely reached my brain that way and possibly killed me. My uncle was sadistic enough to go at it like he was using a paring knife though- went at it all twisty instead of jabby.”

“That’s horrible.” Hermione whispered, looking close to being sick, not that Pansy was any better.

“And the stone eye? Was that something the doctor’s gave you as a kind of, what’s the word? ‘Prostetic’?”

“' _Prosthetic_. An artificial limb, or in this case eye. But no, the doctor’s didn’t want to mess with anything involved with jamming a glass eye or something into the mess of nerves my socket was left as. A friend of sorts from the wizarding world heard about it and implanted the stone eye after explaining to my cousin and aunt how I would be going to Hogwarts soon enough anyhow and that they should know about magic in advance. They wanted me to have an eye that could at least see something, so they gave me this since it can see magic in the air.”

Hermione looked intrigued by that, if still slightly pale from the recent conversation topic. “Really? What was their name? I’ve never heard of an eye that could do that before, where did they even find such a thing?”

Harriet looked away. “I can’t really say, for reasons that are kinda personal and private. Just know that the person who gave me this eye is an old friend of sorts, and that they have a rather unique job that takes them around the world where they stumble on all sorts of interesting magical artifacts.”

Pansy nodded in understanding. “We understand, _right Granger_. You’re allowed your secrets, especially after we kinda forced you into talking about something that you probably would have preferred never talking about again. Whoever this person is clearly has some sentimental connection to you, and they seem to want you safe. Probably wouldn’t have given you a magical stone eye if that wasn’t the case.” Hermione nodded in agreement and Harriet offered a small smile.

“I guess you could say that, yeah. And thanks for being willing to confront me about something that you were worried was putting me in danger. It goes to show that you two are probably the best friends I could have, and that means a lot to me. Now, can we maybe talk about something a bit lighter in topic please? I’m too emotionally drained to have any more serious conversations today.”

Hermione and Pansy chuckled at that before Hermione frowned slightly. “Well how about the fact that Hogwarts is currently guarding the Philosopher's stone under Fluffy. And that our Defense teacher is planning to steal it probably.”

Harriet stopped in her tracks. “ _What_?! In what way is that not a serious topic of conversation?! Only the most important breakthrough in the last thousand years of alchemical studies, and it’s being stashed in a bloody school?!”

“Oh good, you already know of it then.” Harriet waved her arms around in mild panic.

“No bloody fuck I know about it Hermione! I’ve read extensively about the history of alchemy when I was bored and after Madam Pince banned me from the section on Ancient Runes. Nicholas Flamel is famous even to muggles for crying out loud!”

“Um, question from the one out of us who doesn’t live in a history book, but what the hell is the Philosopher’s stone exactly? And if you say ‘just the most important breakthrough in alchemy’ as the only explanation, I will punch you in the throat so help me god! That means nothing to me since I barely know what Alchemy is in the first place.”

Harriet pouted slightly before explaining. “It’s a one of a kind artifact created by Nicholas Flamel. He’s a bloody brilliant alchemist who’s lived for almost seven hundred years because of the stone’s ability to create the elixir of life. A potion that can grant temporary immortality so long as you keep drinking it. The stone can also turn any simple metal into pure gold. By why would Quirrell want it? And anyways, how the buggering fuck did you find any of this out in the first place Hermione?”

Hermione shrugged. “I was curious about what Fluffy would be guarding ever since Hagrid told us. The name Nicholas Flamel clued me in on where to start though it took awhile to find the right book. As for why Quirrell wants it, I’m almost certain that he’s working for you-know-who.”

Pansy raised a brow. “Quirrell? A Death Eater? Please tell me you’re joking Hermione, he’s bloody useless at anything.” the other girl shook her head.

“It would make sense if his timid behavior was secretly an act. Plus he’s constantly glaring at Harriet in class when he thinks no one’s looking, as though she’d personally offended him despite barely saying a word to him all year. Maybe it’s because he wants her dead for defeating his master ten years ago. And maybe he wants the stone to return you-know-who to power. Dumbledore’s gone on record before about his belief that he’s not actually gone right?”

Harriet felt her blood chill at her friend’s words. “Hermione, I’m really hoping you’re wrong, because that actually makes a terrifying amount of sense now that I think about it. Should we tell a teacher or something?”

“Who’s there to tell that would believe us? Snape probably already knows and is keeping an eye on Quirrell when he can, McGonagall would brush us aside because we’re eleven, and Dumbledore is away at the Ministry until tomorrow morning.”

“He’s whatnow?!” The feeling of cold shifted into icy dread when Hermione nodded.

“He was seen just leaving an hour ago I believe. Something about the Minister needing his help on a private matter I think the rumor is.”

“So the stone is at its most vulnerable right now then?” Hermione and Pansy shared a growing look of worry at that fact. “Lovely. Then if none of the staff are going to do anything, I guess we’ll have to.”

Hermione looked at her as if she’d gone insane. “Are you suffering some kind of test-prep related insanity?! What are we going to do against someone who serves the dark lord?! We’re _kids_!”

“Us? Not a whole lot. But I think I know someone who can handle him pretty easily. Quirrell’s magic has been looking weaker than normal for weeks now, I thought he was just sick or something this whole time. I’ll explain later, after we need to hurry if we want to stop Quirrell in time.” Harriet pulled the invisibility cloak out of her sleeve, to Kevin’s annoyance at being disturbed from his nap.

“Why do you keep an old cloak wrapped around your arm under your robes sleeve? And how long have you been doing so?” Pansy questioned with a bemused frown. Harriet just shrugged.

“I figured it might come in handy at some point to have it close at hand, literally. It’s an invisibility cloak, so we can get through the door to Fluffy in broad daylight now while everyone’s heading down to the Great Hall for lunch.”

Hermione shook her head as they started sprinting back up to the castle proper. “This is absolutely madness you know? And how can your ‘friend’ even get here in time to help? Hogwarts is warded against instant methods of travel like apparating and portkeys.”

Harriet grinned as they approached the third floor corridor and unlocked the door with a muttered _Alohomora_ from Hermione. “He doesn’t need to use something as restricting as ‘apparition’. He’s got other ways to show up when I call. Just trust me, I’ll try to explain everything regarding how I know this person later. Hopefully it’ll even make a small bit of sense afterwards.”

“You make it sound like we’ll think you’re insane or something.” Pansy muttered.

Harriet snorted. “Honestly, yeah, you both probably _will_ think that the first time I tell it. But that’s for later, here’s the door.” She pulled the cloak off of the three of them, having reached the point that it would have likely only slowed them down any further and stuffed it up her sleeve.

“Here Kevin, you can have your pillow back, you tiny menace.” She muttered and rolled her eyes at the pleased chirp from the Bowtruckle as it yanked the cloak up her sleeve and around her arm in barely a minute.

“How can you tell it’s the right one?” Hermione glanced at the unassuming wooden door in the middle of the dusty corridor that had at least nearly a dozen identical ones.

Harriet pointed to her left eye. “Because there’s a giant cloud of magic sitting about ten feet in front of it on the other side, with a black void under only one of it’s paws. It stretches pretty far actually now that I’m focusing on it more. Probably a trapdoor or something that leads eventually to the stone.”

Pansy scoffed. “Oh that’ll be simple then. Just have to move a giant killer dog’s paw to get through without it somehow killing us. Lovely.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out. If Quirrell’s already down there, he’s likely used some way to handle Fluffy already.” She didn’t wait for her friend’s response before reaching forward and carefully pulling open the door to the small room and walking in slowly.

“Is it... _Sleeping_?” Pansy whispered at the same time that Hermione whispered-

“Is that a harp playing music?”

Harriet glanced over at the source of the light musical tune and noted that there was, indeed a harp charmed to play on it’s own. “Probably Quirrell’s work. I guess Fluffy here’s got a weakness for music.” All of a sudden, the harp ceased playing. “Ah shite. That can’t be good.”

The sound of yawning indicated that it was indeed _not_ good. Slowly, Fluffy’s three massive heads lifted off the floor as they rapidly started to wake up enough to realise there were three intruders in it’s tiny home.

“Quick, what did Hagrid say about Cerberus’?!” Hermione whispered harshly as Pansy looked close to panicking.

“The hell should I remember?! All I know is that he said this thing was harmless in the school because it liked kids I think!” Harriet felt her mind screech to a halt as a very stupid idea came to mind.

“You think he was being literal?” She questioned before taking a hesitant step forward and holding out her hand to the growling faces. 

“Harriet!” Pansy whispered harshly. “What the hell are you thinking?!” She shushed her quickly before glancing back at the giant dog.

“Um...good dog?” The middle head tilted itself slightly at her words for a second, the other two following suit a few seconds later, in different directions.

“Uh...sit?” Fluffy sat down a second later, the floor shaking slightly at his massive weight.

“Oh! Try getting him to change sizes!” Hermione whispered excitedly now that the dog clearly wasn’t about to kill them anymore. Pansy and Harriet shot her baffled looks. “What? I read that Cerberus’ can shift into different sizes to better hunt different prey. Being twelve feet tall isn’t always the easiest size to be when you need to be stealthy I reckon.”

Harriet glanced back at the calm looking, if curious, dog. “Er, shrink down? Please?” She blinked in surprise when a few seconds later where once was a massive three headed hound, there was now a barely foot tall eager puppy with three much smaller heads running up to her and barking excitedly.

“Harriet Potter, terror of Hogwarts’ first year class, the pranking queen, and now Cerberus tamer. Why am I not surprised?” Pansy muttered before rolling her eyes when Harriet reached down to pick up the puppy Fluffy.

“Aww. He’s much more adorable like this! He’s travel sized now. I can see why Hagrid would want an animal like this now, convenient as how and easy to hide in a cabinet or something by shrinking him down. And he’s not a scaredy cat like Fang.” Fluffy barked happily at the praise.

“Quirrell? The stone? Time sensitive- is any of what I’m saying even registering in that eidetic brain of yours?!” Hermione exclaimed as Harriet brushed her off distractedly.

“Yeah yeah, I heard. Let’s go.” And she proceeded over to the trapdoor, arms still wrapped around the happily panting puppy she was carrying.

“Um, Ha-” Pansy shushed Hermione’s complaints.

“Just let it go Granger. Harriet’s not letting go of that dog anytime soon, so don’t even bother. Who knows, he might be helpful in any other obstacles we have to jump through to catch up with Quirrell.”

“But this counts as _dognapping_! It’s Hagrid’s pet, we shouldn’t just remove him-”

“From a cramped and tiny room he can barely move in? Yeah, go right ahead and tell that to the girl who nearly beat McLaggen to within an inch of his life after he locked Hannah in that closet. I’m sure that’ll go over real smooth.” Hermione huffed in annoyance but didn’t argue any further as they walked over to where Harriet was leaning over the now opened passage beneath the trap door.

“What do you think? Cushioning charm? Or just cast incendio and see if anything burns first before jumping into the unknown?” Fluffy barked once and she nodded in agreement.

“Good point, better safe than sorry.” Harriet shifted Fluffy over to one arm and pulled out her wand.

“And she’s already holding conversations with it. I think Hagrid just lost his position as Fluffy’s favorite person. We should probably consider how anyone’s going to actually pry these two apart eventually.” Pansy whispered and Hermione nodded wearily.

“ _Incendio Maxima!_ ” An intense burst of fire shot out of the tip of Harriet’s wand and into the pitch black passage for a few seconds before fire erupted when it contacted against something. What followed was a few seconds of the sounds of something screeching in pain as the flames consumed it.

“Huh. Sounds like a patch of Devil’s snare. I recognize the sound from when Pansy touched hers in Herbology.” Pansy swatted her over the back of the head.

“It was an _accident_! Plus the bloody thing was wrapped around my neck and trying to kill me!”

Harriet glanced down at Fluffy who looked up at the same time. “Now cushioning charm?” Affirmative barks. “I figured you’d agree. Much safer then just trying to jump down a twenty foot drop into a pit of charred plants that likely offer next to no padding against the fall now that they’re, uh...dead.”

Harriet pointed her wand down the passage. “ _Molliare_.” The tip of her wand glowed briefly before fading and she pocketed after nodding. “Last one down is a rotten egg!” She exclaimed before jumping down with a cackle. Pansy and Hermione peered over the edge until a few seconds later an ‘umph’ sounded as Harriet landed.

“You guys coming or not?!”

Pansy glanced over at Hermione wearily. “Am I the only one who currently thinks this is a really bad idea with a high chance of getting us killed? Or that Harriet’s gone completely mental?” Hermione shook her head and sighed.

“Might as well keep her from getting herself killed. Dudley would be pissed, and Kevin will likely throw a fit if we leave him down there with a dead body.” Hermione leaped into the dim passage with a muttered _‘eep’_!

Pansy raised a brow when the sounds of a loud ‘thump’ and several whines met her ears.

“Ow…” Harriet muttered as Hermione let out a gasp.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you were still standing in the same spot this whole time! You know it’s a narrow opening to go down!”

“What happened?!”

Harriet groaned out in pain. “Hermione _fucking_ crushed my spine is what bloody happened!” The sounds of irritated chattering sounded out indicating Kevin was not pleased with the bushy haired girl’s accidental flattening of his owner either. 

“I’m sorry!”

“You should be! Next time _warn me_ when you’re about to bloody elbow drop my spine from a twenty foot drop! And you nearly squashed Fluffy, poor thing- Ow!” The sound of something rather hard getting slapped rang out from the still blackened chamber. “Why did you slap the back of my head?!”

“Oh stop whining, you big baby. Your head is hard enough that it likely didn’t suffer any damage.”

“You two want to move out of the way so I don’t accidentally finish the job and kill Harriet?”

A muttered ‘you’re clear’ a few seconds later met her and Pansy braced herself briefly before leaping down to join her friends.

Harriet was glaring at Hermione while rubbing her back when Pansy steadied her footing.

“I’ll find a way to return the favor, trust me. Next time you have a sore neck I’ll fucking elbow drop _that_ instead of using a pain relief spell. It’ll make up for my bloody spine being bruised.” Harriet muttered darkly before walking towards the small tunnel leading off to the side of the giant chamber.

“Does anyone else hear that?” Fluffy barked. “Well yes, I imagined you could, silly. You’ve got six ears that are rather stronger than ours.” Harriet cood at the dog as the sounds of clinking metal in the next room met all of their ears.

“It sounds kinda like...clinking keys? Oh dear…” Hermione uttered before looking around the small room they were in with a high ceiling.

“Well this might prove slightly complicated.” Harriet muttered before glancing around and taking in the contents of the room. “Couple of broomsticks, a swarm of flying winged keys, and an old door with a silver handle that probably ain't going to open with just an unlocking charm. Seems like something Professor Flitwick would think of, he’s obsessed with animation-based charms like these keys.” 

“Well get up there Harriet! You’re the best flyer out of the three of us.”

Harriet rolled her eye. “Yeah, in this cramped of a room? Why don’t I just bash my head in against the wall and save the keys the effort of trying instead? I’ve got a different idea. Back up a second, this is gonna be a messy spell if it works. Stay…” She told Fluffy as she set him down on the floor next to him.

“Harriet, why do you have that look in your eye like you’re about to blow something up?”

“Because I am!” She pointed her wand at the door and traced it in a loose triangular motion. “Bombarda!

Hermione and Pansy shrieked and ducked down when the door exploded into pieces.

“Are you bloody insane?!” Pansy screamed as Harriet giggled with a slight nod,

“Possibly. Up to debate really, depending on who you ask. Now come on, we’ve got a magic rock to protect from a lunatic serving a ghostly dark lord. God I hope I get to say something as cool as that again in the future...” She muttered under her breath before skipping into the next room, Fluffy scampering after her with a yelp.

“She’s gonna end up blowing something else up before the night is over, isn’t she?” Hermione asked. Pansy just nodded before they both paled slightly at the shouted _‘bombarda Maxima’!_

“Correction, she _already_ managed to blow something else up. Gods, maybe we should just let her do that to Quirrell when we bump into him, assuming Harriet’s friend doesn’t show up.”

They hurried into the next room, only to pause at the sight of broken stone statues lying in ruin everywhere.

“Um, was this a giant wizard’s chess set?! Just how strong was that spell?!” Hermione exclaimed as Harriet scratched Fluffy’s middle head, the still tiny dog once again in the girl’s arms and enjoying the attention as he panted.

“Not sure really. But strong enough that we don’t have to risk our lives playing a giant game of chess against killer pieces.”

“Sounds good to me, less endangerment to our lives is always nice.” Pansy stated before kicking away a small chunk of stone by her foot. “Also, you’re so teaching me both of those spells when we get out here! That was bloody badass how you just blew up two of the ‘obstacles’ the staff put in place without even batting an eye.”

Harriet blushed slightly before shrugging. “I mean, if you want to? Sure. But probably somewhere the teachers won’t notice, McGonagall was kinda annoyed with Professor Flitwick when he accidentally showed me the regular bombarda that night the troll got in.”

“Speaking of troll…” Hermione said wearily as they were assaulted by a foul smell that Harriet recognized as belonging to another mountain troll.

“Oh thank Merlin. It’s already unconscious. I would not want to try and fight this thing if it was awake.” Pansy let out a relieved sigh as they carefully crept around the knocked out troll, Hermione letting out a terrified squeak when it grunted in it’s sleep.

“Hagrid's, Sprout’s, Flitwick’s, McGonagall with the chessboard, and Quirrell’s troll- he probably let the one on Halloween into the castle in the first place. All that leaves is Dumbledore’s that will likely guard the stone itself, and-”

“Snape’s potions trial.” Harriet finished Hermione’s rambling as she noticed the table of seven different sized bottles sitting in a row.

The moment they approached, purple flames emerged to block off the way they came, while back fire barred the way forward.

“Ooo! Hellfire enchantment, fancy. I didn’t think someone like Snape was that knowledgeable about the Dark Arts. I mean, I know he’s been begging for the Defense position for years now, so he’d probably have to know his fair share, but this is next level stuff! You have to conjure this kind of fire from the circles of hell itself, that ain’t an easy thing to do by any meaning of the word-” Harriet rambled before Pansy slapped a hand over her mouth in irritation.

“Less praising our head of house for being a Dark Arts fanatic, more trying to figure out what the hell we’re supposed to do. There’s a piece of parchment here, but it’s just lines of a riddle that doesn’t make sense.” 

Harriet picked up the paper for a few seconds and read over it. “Ah, three bottles of different poisons- Lovely, that’s Snape for you I guess. Two bottles of nettle wine, and one that allows you to go back and the last one lets you move forward. Hmm…” Harriet reached forward and picked up two of the bottles and sniffed at them lightly.

“Wha- are you _serious_?! You’re just going to sniff them randomly, what if the poison can kill from just that?!” Pansy exclaimed, only to gawk when Harriet took a sip from both a second later and set them off to the side with a hard nod. 

“Yep, those were wine. Got some kick to ‘em, that’s for sure. So that leaves the way forward, the way back, and poison.”

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. “How did you know from just the smell?” Harriet shrugged lightly before picking up another two bottles.

“My uncle’s favorite pastime after work was getting drunk on wine and taking a belt to my back to vent his anger at life as a whole. I learned over the years to recognize the base scent most wine’s share from his breath when he was spitting insults in my face. Comes in handy for some things I guess.” 

“That’s a kinda fucked up reason. And taking a swig from both? Was that just you making sure in as stupid a way as possible or something?” Pansy asked.

Harriet snorted. “Nope. I pretty much was certain they were wine. I figured we’re a few minutes away from facing a dangerous wizard who may try and kill us and I would rather not have gone to my death fully sober. Like I said, Nettle wine’s got some strong kick to it.” She set the one bottle off to the side. “Boomslang venom. Not necessarily a poison so much as a venom, but it’ll still kill you if you drink it. Clever Snape. This other one I’m fairly sure is a basic fire-resistance potion, which won’t cut it for the black hellfire in front of us. Must be the way to go back.” She set the boomslang venom next to the two bottles of wine and put the other bottle on the other side of the three remaining bottles.

“Should we be worried that you know the smell of snake venom so well? Or the limits of what can shield you from literal _hellfire_?” Hermione questioned with a weary frown.

“Eh, I was the weird kid who spent a lot of time playing with grass snakes in my aunt’s garden growing up. I’ve always liked snakes in general, so I studied a lot about them growing up and learned that most snake venom has a rather distinct smell to it if you know what to look for. Whew, that’s nasty. Definitely a poison then, any potion to counter hellfire needs a special type of lily flower that has a distinctly sweet smell to it, so any potion it was used in wouldn’t smell like troll piss like this one.”

“Not even going to consider why or how you know what that smells like. What about this tiny one? It smells sweet to me, but there’s only-” 

“One swallow left. Dammit.” Harriet took the small bottle from Pansy and sniffed it before nodding. “Definitely the right flower. Okay, here’s what we have to do. You two take the one that’ll let you go back and out. Find a teacher and let them know what’s going on with Quirrell. I’ll take this one and head on myself-”

“No way in _hell_!”

“Harriet _no_!”

“It’s the only choice we have. The potion to go back is barely much more than what’s in this one, barely enough for two people. One of us would have to stay behind anyhow, and it may as well be me. I’ve faced the dark lord before, and I’m sure I can face his little follower. Besides, I’ll have fluffy to defend me, Cerberus’ are resistant to hellfire since they’re born from it in the first place. Besides, I can call my friend after I cross the flames and he can deal with Quirrell. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Harriet didn’t wait any longer before downing the small bottle of potion with a slight grimace before sprinting through the black flames.

“Woah, that was weird.” She muttered before turning back to her friends after checking that she hadn’t caught on fire anywhere. “Hurry and go! We’re kinda on a time limit!” She watched as they both nodded grimly and each took a sip from the bottle that would let them pass back the way they came and let out a relieved sigh when they were out of sight.

“Okay. Let’s catch a bad guy. Death? Are you here?” A cold hand wrapped around her shoulder from behind and Harriet let out another sigh of relief.

“Always, when you have need of me.” He snarked before smirking. “Now that the witnesses are safely away, let’s go say hello to Tom shall we?”

Harriet nodded in agreement, hating the fact she’s had to lie to her friends about what she had planned that evening. “Like we discussed before. Until the stone is safely tucked away, you’re just my shadow. The moment it’s safe, you put the fear of, well, yourself I guess, into Tom’s heart.” Death nodded once before fading into the darkness of her shadow.

Harriet took one final breath before setting Fluffy on the floor and walking through the door to where her parent’s killer lay in wait, the three headed dog growing in size until he was roughly shoulder height with her. “Let’s have some fun now, shall we?” Fluffy barked excitedly before Harriet descended into the final chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I completely throw away small amount of canon on Fluffy? Yes, and happily so. A lot of details about him didn't make as much sense to me, so I decided to change up a good bit about him to fit a bit easier, like being able to change size at will to hunt in less wide open spaces easier, and to explain how they even got him in such a tiny room in the first place. Hagrid wouldn't wand them trying to cast shrinking spells on his precious Fluffy. Plus I got the idea of Harriet with a tiny puppy sized version of fluffy stuck in my head and had to write it into the chapter along with a logical reason he would be that small lol.
> 
> I originally planned the chapter about them going through the tasks as being a bit later in the year, and with them actually 'completing' them properly. Along with Dudley and probably Ron being brought along for the hell of it. and then I realized, where's the logic to that when Harriet's got no patience for wizard's chess and ain't about to let one of her friend's sacrifice themselves, even if she's not Ron's biggest fan? Especially at the reminder that Harriet had seen bombarda in action before and likely studied more about it in private to learn the more powerful version to. She wouldn't go flying around in a cramped room after a bunch of keys or playing chess where her friend's could be killed for the slightest mistake, she'd blow both the door to the chess challenge and then the chess pieces themselves the bloody hell up! lol.
> 
> I apologize if it seems a bit rushed together at any point, but this chapter was overall a pain in the ass to write and I really wanted to try and wrap up the stone part of the year as quick as possible so I can get to more of Harriet interacting a bit more with her friends and going through exams in a terrifying to witness panic of stress despite the little dork having the entire contents of her books memorized months ago by now lol. Next chapter will be the actual Quirrell encounter and we get the first real show of why you really shouldn't ever fuck with Death lol, along with the aftermath of this chapter's events lol.
> 
> Side note: Pansy and Hermione are smart little cookies when it comes to piecing together something possibly wrong with their friends, and they are awesome for it. They may have been a bit unrealistic in their responses handling uncovering Harriet's past abuse, but they both have their reasons for that added sense of acting more mature for their age than they probably would be otherwise. Those reasons start to come into play a bit more around year two, at least in Pansy's case, though Hermione's maturity already probably makes a bit of sense in this matter.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think in the comments.


	16. The Reaping

The room was massive. That was Harriet’s first thoughts as she took it in, along with the figure that stood in the center of the lowered platform at the end of the several sets of stairs. Her second immediate thought was  _ ‘Stairs?! Seriously?! I just walked down at least fifty of these fuckers already! Suddenly I can understand Riddle’s hatred of the old man just a bit. Dumbledore’s a bloody sadist!’ _

She could literally feel the chastising remark that Death wanted to make about her distracted thoughts if it weren’t for him having to remain silent to keep up the illusion she was alone.

_ ‘Who said I did? I certainly didn’t.’ _ She paused briefly before the steps with an internal groan.

_ ‘Let me guess. Telepathy since you’re hiding in my shadow or something similar?’ _

_ ‘More like telepathy since you’re the Master of Death, but close enough. I’ve always been able to communicate with you like this, I just never bothered because you have the annoying habit of being able to ramble on for hours on end about dust if you wanted.’ _

_ ‘Hey! Dust is important to know about scientifically! It causes all kinds of seasonal allergies and no matter how hard we try, there’s always more of the bloody stuff! Now that I’ve seen magic in action, I’m even more convinced there’s some kind of witchcraft behind the reason for it being  _ **_everywhere_ ** _!’ _

She could feel Death rolling his eyes in exhaustion.  _ ‘Only you, little mistress, could have a conversation that sounds interesting, and have it be about dust. But we’re not here tonight to bicker about your questionable debate topics, are we? Quirinus awaits, and I do believe I can sense Tom’s soul within him as well. The man simply oozes ‘possessed by a madman’ vibes.’ _

_ ’The fact that you’ve been around enough people possessed by lunatics to recognize the ‘vibes from twenty feet away is all kinds of disturbing. Also, don’t think I haven’t forgotten the part where we could have been talking mentally all this time and you didn’t bother telling me ahead of time. You and I are going to have some stern words when this is all done, Death.’ _

Harriet pulled her focus away from the verbal chewing out she was planning to give the snarky entity later, and turned it to the man who was looking up at her smugly.

_ ‘The bastard probably thinks I’m standing here without moving because I’m ‘all so scared’. Moron needs to hone his room-reading skills more. He’s shamefully out of practice after a decade as a bodiless wraith.’ _

“Harriet Potter...the ‘Girl-Who-Lived’. I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you’ve managed to suss out my whereabouts on this night. After all, you were sorted into my old house for a reason.” The man who at first glance looked like her Defense teacher spoke in a calm, and likely meant to be ‘charming’ voice. It probably would have worked to a degree on her, if Harriet actually found guys even slightly attractive instead of just ‘meh’.

She narrowed her eyes slightly and noticed that Quirrell’s eyes seemed to be tinged red.

_ ‘Riddle then. Good, I was worried he might not have been involved so directly. Should make things easier, huh Death?’  _ The feeling of eyes being rolled again was starting to get unnerving.

“Aw, did I shock the big bad dark lord by ending up more snake than lion?” She taunted, only for Quirrell/Voldemort- fuck it, he was Quirrellmort now. Harriet wasn’t even going to attempt to keep track of who the fuck was who anymore. They were sharing a bloody body for crying out loud, the two may as well be considered a weird amalgam of her teacher and the dark lord. Quirrelmort smirked slightly and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Quite the contrary actually. The moment I saw you approach the sorting hat, I knew there was something different about you, Miss Potter. It was in your eye, that hint of darkness that simply screamed of pain to any who stood in your way. I knew you would fit right in among Slytherin, and I was correct, wasn’t I?”

Harriet shrugged lightly before descending the steps towards the dark wizard. “Maybe you were, but I don’t see how it really matters right now. We’re both here because of the stone. You want it to regain a body, I want to stop that from happening because you’re an annoying parasite who’s messing up my education this year. Rude by the way, you could have at least made Defense be a bit more educational instead of letting Quirrell have the reigns and make it a laughing stock of an attempt at learning a bloody thing.”

“Perhaps. But it was much more preferable to leave the students with as little knowledge in fighting the dark arts as possible, even if only for a year. But back to the matter at hand. I do desire the stone, but Quirrell, as you can tell, is rather useless at accomplishing anything short of pissing his own robes in fear.”

“Sucks to have such useless help doesn’t it? Good servants and minions are so hard to find these days, I swear. At least I’ve found one or two that can get their jobs done quite nicely. I take it you need help getting your fancy rock and that it’s the only reason you’re still standing around despite having a more than twenty minute lead on us.”

Quirrellmort nodded begrudgingly, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Yes. Dumbledore employed a rather clever bit of enchantment with this mirror here, hiding the stone within. I can not claim it on the desire to use it, but I can deduce the desire that would actually give it to me.”

Harriet narrowly avoided rolling her eye at the obvious answer being kept from an apparently ‘genius’ wizard. “I swear, wizards give out the title of ‘brilliant’ like candy these days to anyone who does good on some bloody tests. Morons.” She muttered before stepping in front of the mirror willingly, much to Quirrellmort’s surprise.

“You probably need to only want the stone for itself instead of it’s properties, bloody idiot.” Harriet looked into the mirror that apparently showed her heart’s desires, only to blink in surprise at what she saw.

“What is it?! What does it show you, Potter?!” Quirrellmort whispered harshly.

In front of her, a slightly older version of herself stared back in the reflection. An equally aged up version of Dudley and Petunia stood off to the side, happy smiles on their faces. Her few friends were standing around her as well, Pansy and Hermione seemingly arguing over something and Harriet snorted in amusement. She doubted some things would ever change. 

A couple were standing directly behind her as well, each with a hand on her shoulders and proud grins in place. The man had the same messy tangled black hair, while the woman had her piercing green eyes. 

_‘I should have expected your parents to be a part of this. But you know that they cannot be returned to this world, only freed from their torment eventually.’_ Death spoke calmly in her mind and Harriet nodded slightly.

_ ‘I know. But it’s still a lovely dream to have, even at least that part will never be quite as real as the other’s. It’s nice to at least know what they looked like, to see which parts of their faces I inherited from whom.’ _ She turned her attention back to the impatient wizard beside her as her reflection tucked the philosopher’s stone into her robe pocket with a wink.

“I see my friends and family together. An impossible dream, thanks largely to you. And the stone, shattering into pieces to deny you your precious return.” Quirrellmort snarled as she leaped away from him and the mirror with a twisted smirk on her face.

“You insolent pest! I know you have the stone in your pocket, you’re not the only one who can sense the source of magic thanks to a fetid trinket. Now hand it over, or your life is forfeit!”

Harriet’s smirk grew slightly as her shadow darkened at the threat.

_ ‘Show time. Make the fear hit home Death. He wanted to play the role of terrorist in the war ten years ago? Let’s show him what terror  _ **_truly_ ** _ means.’ _

_ “With pleasure.’ _

“You should really watch who you threaten, Tom.” The man’s eyes widened slightly in shock at her use of his name, only for them to narrow murderously.

“And who are you to try and put me in my place? You, an insolent little girl who’s sole reason for still being alive is that your mother refused to get out of my way before I killed her.”

“Who am I? An excellent question! Ten points to Slytherin.” She grinned cheekily before the smile dropped off her face and the pooling shadow around her began to rise into the air.

“I am the one whose life you ruined at the age of one. I am the one whose fate was tied to prophecy before an angel of decay severed my strings that bound me in it’s service. I am also a witch with a temper problem that you’ve royally pissed off the moment you let a Soul Eater condemn my parents to eternal suffering!” Quirre- no.  _ Voldemort’s _ eyes widened in shock as her shadow began to take form. “But most importantly, in  _ this _ moment? I am the Master of Death.”

The formerly shapeless mass of darkness suddenly hunched downward slightly as a skeletal head became visible beneath a shroud of shadow. As arms of blackened bone reached out to the sides, a long-handled scythe gripped loosely in its hands, Harriet knew the moment Voldemort realized just who, or rather what, he was about to face in person. 

This was not the calm and collected visage that Death liked to use most of the time when he was around her or collecting the average person’s soul. There was no trimmed and sleek black suit, no fancy walking stick that she knew Death liked to twirl around after reaping particularly rude souls, just to be snarky.

The entity behind her was not the one that enjoyed dice and junk food to the point that it was all he would spend most of his free time indulging in both. This was the side of Death that existed since primordial times before creation even began, the elder brother of light and darkness. He wielded the innocent and simple looking scythe that was counted among the very small list of items that could kill anything in creation short of a primordial being, the weapon that was so often depicted throughout history as the sign of his approach at the apocalypse, alongside his three, much younger, brothers.

The being that Tom Riddle feared most; The pale rider, the Grim One, the end of all things. He was all those and more. But as Harriet saw the shadows being cast from his wings unfolding, the room itself being plunged into darkness, she understood the fear that could be stuck in the hearts of even angels and demons at his most feared title. Even she could admit that bravery was not the current feeling she was experiencing in that moment, but slight fear. Because this was not the sort of being even it’s master’s could disrespect without being either very stupid, or having a death wish themselves. 

They often called him ‘The Angel of Death’. But an angel was meant to be seen as a sign of joy, or goodness. Noble warriors to some, agents of their father’s word made law to others. But this was not the case for the one behind her, whose wings could darken creation with the scent of decay as he reaped the souls of all but his kin. This was not one of those cherubs of good. Death was many things, but it was not within his nature to be ‘good’ or ‘kind’. His nature was the balance of life and death, nothing more or less.

She found it almost amusing really, that humans so often mistook  _ Lucifer _ as the angel they should fear the most. To Harriet, they had it all wrong: Lucifer was the angel most hated for his ‘fall from grace’, that much was true. And he  _ was _ the de facto leader of hell since his imprisonment. His threat of corrupting and destroying anything at the faintest whim should he be freed was not something she doubted the sincerity of in the slightest. But she couldn’t help but feel only pity for him, rather than fear. At the end of the day, Lucifer seemed only guilty to her of arguing and fighting against a change that would have meant rejecting his very nature. 

It was hardly the nature of the favored son to stand by while their father’s love and attention was turned to a creation that was seen as vastly flawed and lesser than them. 

(She wasn’t excusing the devil’s actions, far from it. Lucifer, as far as Death would talk about it, was as close to being a monster as she could see someone being. But she could also somewhat  _ understand _ the perspective he came from at the time. No one wanted to be cast aside and possibly forgotten by their own family.)

In her mind,  _ Death _ was the angel who was deserving of being feared above any other ‘angel’ at his approach. Not the archangel who fell from grace and glory.

“That’s  _ impossible _ ! You can’t-  _ you lie! _ This is some twisted trick of magic, or-or an illusion. Death can not come for me- I have conquered death itself!” Voldemort screamed out in rage and disbelief, but there was no hiding the small sound of fear in his voice that told her he knew this was no trick he was seeing.

Death chuckled, a rasping cold sound so unlike what she was used to over the years. “Conquered? No, Tom. You have only delayed the inevitable. Sooner, or later, I will come for you, as I come to reap all in this world. You are not so special as to be safe from my blade’s cold edge as it reaps your soul from your body. I may not claim you tonight, Riddle, but unlike you I can wait quite literally forever till that day comes. My patience far surpases your own Tom. The only thing that awaits you at the end of your time in this world, is not creation’s end. It is eternal damnation within the fiery pit of hell for those you have wronged for so long. At the end of the day,  _ I..am... _ **_Inevitable_ ** .” 

Death brought its arms back suddenly, the scythe’s edge making an almost pleased hum as it sliced through the air, before bringing it swiftly across Quirrell’s chest. The small cut, barely even noticeable with how thinly the tip of the weapon grazed him, flashed briefly as something was torn from it and clung to the very end of the scythe’s blade. Qurrell’s face twisted into agony for a second before black smoke started pouring out of his eyes, nose, and mouth and towards the ceiling above him. 

“Only a demon can possess a soulless shell for a vessel, and regardless of your actions, you are no demon Tom Riddle.  _ Begone _ .” Death spoke firmly before waving the hand not clutching the scythe as an unseen force expelled the black smoke that was Voldemort’s soul out of the room and the castle itself. Death turned back to the twisted and slimy soul of Quirrell that still hung from his scythe before he turned to Harriet herself.

“I believe you’re old enough to see a reaping. After all, the Master of Death should know what it is that I actually do.” Harriet nodded hesitantly.

“If you say so. But if this ends up traumatizing me worse than I already probably am, I’m blaming you and calling up your sister to kick your ass to hell and back.” If Death had eyes in that moment, she knew he would be rolling them right now.

“Always with the dramatics. It’s hardly traumatizing, you might even enjoy seeing him judged and sentenced. I find it quite entertaining myself, the sight of a vile little soul being dragged into the pit.”

Harriet raised a brow at Death’s twisted sense of humor but didn’t comment, focusing more on what Death was doing. 

Death raised his scythe a few inches and tapped the end of the handle firmly against the ground with a clack. Harriet watched as the soul on the end of the blade dripped down towards the floor the moment the weapon made contact with the ground. Before it could pool however, the soul warped into the image of Quirrell, his expression fearful. His form flickered slightly as the last of his soul left the scythe and manifested- Harriet was reminded by it of an image of the old tv shows Petunia liked to watch from time to time. Flickering, like static. As though the scene she was watching was nothing more than a simple television program or something.

“Quirinus Quirrell. Your time within the world of the living has come to an end. Tonight, you shall be judged by your actions in life, and depending on them, shall be granted passage into your own personal vision of heaven, or condemned to damnation within hell’s burning pit.” Death waved it’s hand again and two rows of candles appeared in front of Quirrell’s soul.

“Your judgement...Before you are 60 candles, two for each year you have lived. Each shall be lit one by one by fate’s hand, and the flames will be either white for every year without corruption, or black for every wrong you have commited. The majority will decide your sentence, am I clear?” Quirrell’s head tilted down slightly.

“Y-yes.” Death nodded and the candles began to light. 

Harriet wasn’t surprised to see that the first fifteen or so were all lit with white flames, there probably wasn’t much ‘corruption’ the man could have committed at that young an age. Then the first black flame appeared around the twentieth candle.

“Stole the answers to the exams written portion in third year, t-to make myself seem smarter to others.” Quirrell muttered as Harriet realized that the man would likely be forced to recall all of his past wrongs as his fate drew closer to its end. She figured it wasn’t the worst thing that a person could do as a teenager, no murders were committed at least.

“Killed two unicorns and drank their blood.” He muttered as the candles reached the last handful. Harriet hated when she was proved wrong like that. In the end, while there were certainly quite a few white flames burning among the candles, the number of black one’s outnumbered them by nearly a third as the final candle flickered a black flame into life. Death peered at the soul in front of him emotionlessly.

“Fate has spoken Quirinus Quirrell. Your sentence is damnation.” Death raised his scythe once more before bringing it clanging down against the stone floor once more. Black smoke formed at Quirrell’s feet before spreading out into a small patch around him, hints of burning oranges and reds visible among the swirling black. Harriet could feel the heat from ten feet away, and she knew instinctively that she was looking at a small portal to hell itself.

Chains shot out of the swirling opening, vicious looking hooks on the ends of them as they lashed out at the soul entwined within them. She watched as his arms were pierced by the hooks, morbid fascination on her face as her former Defense teacher’s soul was slowly dragged into the fire gate to hell.

“I have served _him_ faithfully. Hell may be my sentence, but it shall be your life when my lord returns.” Quirrell spoke sternly before his head was dragged below the swirling darkness and Death lifted his scythe for a third time that night and let it clack against the ground. Harriet watched the small opening to hell close with a small sense of sorrow that she couldn’t explain as Death’s form swirled briefly before taking on the one that she was familiar with.

“The first time witnessing a reaping of that caliber can be...intense. Even for a Master of Death. Are you alright?” Harriet was surprised to note the sound of genuine concern in his voice before she nodded firmly.

“I think so. Just a bit overwhelmed I think, it’s been a long night already.” She giggled when Fluffy bumped into her leg with a whine, having shrunken back down at some point into his Puppy sized form. She reached into her pocket and plucked out the red crystal that was the Philosopher’s stone before she held it out for Death to take.

“It belongs to Nicholas Flamel rightfully. Dumbledore shouldn’t have any right or say in whether it should be destroyed, and I know Flamel would follow his friend’s decision regardless of his own feelings on the matter. Can you bring it to him the next time you have your weekly chat over tea? Hogwarts clearly isn’t safe enough for something like this to be left here longer than necessary.” Death held out his hand and she set the stone in it before he tucked the red artifact into one of his suit’s pockets. He turned to the mirror then with a considerate look.

“Dumbledore won’t question the stone’s disappearance if he thinks it was destroyed during your ‘battle’ against Quirrell and Tom. And this mirror is a menace to humanity that should never have remained in one piece for so long.” Death snapped his fingers and Harriet blinked in surprise when the mirror shattered into hundreds of pieces. 

“There. Now it’ll appear, for all intents, that the stone was destroyed by the mirror shattering. Not like Dumbledore has the knowledge of how to repair it well enough to try and retrieve anything inside it. Now, to the matter of the teachers who are approaching. It has to look as though you were injured in the fight or they’ll question how you escaped without a scratch from a wizard known to want you dead.”

Harriet nodded. “Do what you have to. No one can know what really happened tonight, not for now at least. Too much meddling is going to ruin out efforts in dealing with Tom.” Death nodded in agreement before reaching a hand forward and tapping two fingers against her forehead. The last thing she saw after collapsing to the ground as her vision started going dark was the distant robes of burning bright orange that could only belong to Dumbledore.

* * *

Harriet was awakened by something cold and wet against her nose and she groaned as pain ached in her hands and shoulder- the later probably from when she hit the ground. 

“Kevin, if you’re smearing ink on my face again, I’m cutting off your access to fruit for a year, so help me.” She muttered, only to hear barking from beside her and Kevin’s familiar chattering from further away then would indicate he was next to her head. She cracked open her eye wearily only to startle into sitting up at the sight of three head’s staring at her in confusion before panting happily.

Calm laughter drew her attention to where Professor Dumbledore was sitting in a chair near the bed she was laying in what Harriet was quickly piecing together was the Hospital Wing.

“It seems that Hagrid is no longer the only one that Fluffy has taken a liking to. He’s been quite insistent in staying near you at all times since you were found and brought here dear girl. I don’t believe Fluffy here has strayed more further than the bed in the last day or two.”

Harriet blushed slightly at the amused twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes as she reached a hand out to scratch distractedly at one of Fluffy’s head, idly noting the fact that her hand- both in fact - were wrapped in slightly too tight bandages.

“Sir, what exactly happened that night? I remember Hermione Pansy and I realized Quirrell was going after the stone, and we had to split up in Snape’s task because the potion to go forward only had enough for one, while the one for going back barely had enough for two to escape. After that, my memory’s kinda hazy at best.”

Dumbledore nodded in understanding, a slightly sad look in his eyes replacing the mirth that was there a minute ago. “Something that should have never fallen to you three to have to deal with, Harriet. It was my hope that whoever desired the stone would be handled by the staff, not a couple of first years so inexperienced in magical learning yet. It seems that you encounter Professor Quirrell attempting to steal the Philosopher’s stone while possessed by Voldemort’s shade.” Harriet’s eyes widened in shock, playing into the scared little girl act that she was expected to serve.

“I remember! The mirror ended up shattered- but what about the stone?!” Dumbledore held up a hand in an effort to calm her worry.

“Destroyed, I’m afraid. Though it is probably for the best. Nicholas Flamel and I discussed the matter, and he has enough elixir left for him and Paranelle to settle their affairs and ensure everything is in order before the time comes.”

“They’ll die you mean. Without the elixir, they won’t be immortal anymore, and they’ll die eventually.” Dumbledore nodded.

“It is regretful, though Nicholas assured me that he was more than willing to depart from the adventure of life in exchange for the next great one into the unknown. We mustn’t attempt to defy death Harriet, it’s an inevitable part of life after all. Something Nicholas and his wife have come to understand quite well.” Privately Harriet couldn’t help but feel amused by his words, mostly because Death was likely sitting in France somewhere drinking tea with the Flamels like old friends. Hell, they probably  _ were _ old friends at this point.

“Ah! I see that your friend’s have already saved you the trouble of sorting through your pile of treats while you slept. I believe I spotted young Ronald indulging himself quite heavily with a handful of chocolate frogs.” Harriet finally noticed the small pile of different candy at the foot of her bed, and raised a brow slightly at Dumbledore picking up an opened box of Bertie’s every flavored beans.

“Ah. After a rather unfortunate incident in my youth when I stumbled across a vomit flavored bean, I’ve found my fondness for these quite lacking ever since. I suppose that just  _ one _ toffee couldn’t hurt.” He plucked out an oddly green looking one before popping it into his mouth and chewing. He tilted his head slightly with a pleased look after a few seconds.

“Hmm, Green apple. I may have to reconsider my stance on these for the future, now that my luck has proven to not always be so rotten regarding such an unpredictable treat.” He set the box of beans to the side before standing.

“Now, I will leave you to rest properly. Madam Pomfrey has already threatened me nearly a dozen times as it is, and I would rather avoid incurring her wrath any further. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, your friends, Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson, are quite alright. I simply sent them along with your other concerned friends and cousin to the Great Hall for lunch. They’ve been quite stubborn in their desire to be present when you awoke. I would brace myself for their return if I were you dear girl. They’ve been quite worried.” Harriet shook her head and smiled fondly at the idea as the Headmaster walked out of the room and she turned her attention to Kevin and Fluffy, who seemed to be getting along surprisingly well.

Until Kevin hopped onto the three headed dog’s back and Fluffy started running around in small circles across the bed at the Bowtruckle clinging on for dear life. She couldn’t help but break down in laughter at that.

“Kevin, you’re not a tiny bull rider! Leave poor Fluffy alone before he grows bigger and tries to eat you or something. He’s technically a hellhound still, even if he is bloody adorable like this.” 

“ _Harriet Dorea Potter!_ ” She glanced up at the twin shouts of her name, only to shriek in surprise when she was tackled into a hug by Pansy and Hermione.

“The bloody hell?!” She exclaimed, only for Hermione to swat her across the back of her head. “Ow, I’m still injured here! No attacking me until I’m released from this sterile prison please?”

“Shut up. We’re allowed to wack you for being so stupid. What were you thinking, fighting the actual Dark Lord?! Why didn’t you call your friend that could apparently have helped?! You promised you’d be fine dammit!” She blinked in surprise at the worried looks on both of her friends' faces and she immediately felt guilty at making them worry about what it looked like she had done.

“Guys, relax.” She whispered quietly in case Madam Pomfrey was lurking like the bloody ninja Harriet was half-convinced she secretly was. “My friend did show up, and he dealt with Quirrell. We had to hide his intervention though, to avoid suspicion from the staff and Dumbledore. I’ll explain later when we can be certain no one’s listening in, I promise. But I was never in any real danger, I swear it.”

“Fine. I believe you, but you have a bloody lot of explaining to do when we get the chance to hear it all.” Pansy frowned at the idea of having to wait so long.

“I don’t like hiding things from you two either. But this is something no one else knows, besides my friend of course. It’s not from a desire to  _ want _ to lie that I do, so much as a force of habit born from never having anyone  _ to _ tell the truth to. Even Dudley and my aunt don’t know about it all really, though I’ll probably have to explain it to them as well at some point in the future. But you guys need to know, this isn’t something that you can go telling our other friends - or anyone really - about. Not unless you talk to me about it first so I can decide if they’re trustworthy enough.” Pansy and Hermione frowned at that but nodded at the same time.

“We won’t tell anyone else, we swear. Right Pansy?” Hermione looked over at the other girl who had a serious expression on her face as she nodded quickly.

“Absolutely. No one besides the three of us will know about your friend. Not unless you tell them yourself. It’s your secret to tell who  _ you _ want Harriet. Merlin knows that not enough people seem to understand that fact as it is.”

Harriet let out a relieved breath she hadn’t realized she was even holding before smiling. “Great. Now when’s dinner? I’m bloody starving!” Pansy and Hermione both facepalmed at that, groaning in exasperation.


	17. New Pets and Truth's Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smaller chapter this time that's pretty much pure fluffy fun with Harriet getting a new pet and explains some important facts about herself to her two best friends and Dudley. Don't worry though, second year I've got plans to make nice and extra angsty to balance out the sugary fluff that first year has mostly been for the most part. Enjoy lol.
> 
> Side note because I just remembered I forgot it beforehand: Inspiration for Harriet's magical sight is at least partially inspired by Kaleidoscopic Grangers. My bad for not mentioning it beforehand, even if I've changed it up drastically.

Before she was released from the Hospital wing to get some much needed food, Harriet had to endure a sight that made her heart hurt more than she liked to admit- the sight of her cousin looking at her with a sad frown on his face.

The rest of her friends had tried to get in to see her, but Madam Pomfrey had sternly turned them away except for Dudley- and probably  _ only _ let him in because they were cousins.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of what was going on? Why not ask me to help, or is it because I’m not smart enough to out-think a couple of teachers? Was this just one more thing you had to do without me?” 

It was then that Harriet started to realize just how little time she and Dudley had really spent together outside of class. Between her obsessive studying and research routine, trying to spend time getting to know Hermione Pansy and Tracey better and overall trying to learn how to actually do the whole ‘friendship’ thing that Death constantly teased her about struggling with so badly she somehow made him seem like the friendly and outgoing one between the two of them- and he  _ reaped souls for a bloody living! _

It wasn’t much of a fair excuse to make for not bothering to spend more time with her only cousin, but it was the truth nonetheless. The one time her brain allowed her to forget something, and it ended being the closest thing she had to a  _ brother _ ?! 

_ ‘Well that’s not a habit I’m letting continue to live! Fuck studying, this is way more important than a bloody exam.’ _

“Okay, first? That whole bit you just said about me thinking you’re not smart enough to bring on a deadly adventure? Kill it with fire  _ right fucking now!” _ Dudley blinked in surprise at her stern words.

“Secondly, I didn’t try to bring you with because we were in a hurry and didn’t know how far Quirrell was into trying to get the stone. If I had even a moment to think it through more, I wouldn’t have hesitated for one second in finding you and bringing you with too.” Dudley looked at her wearily.

“You mean that? All of it? You’re not just saying it to try and spare my feelings or make me feel more important or some other crap?” 

Harriet chuckled and shook her head slightly. “Dudley, when have you ever known me to ever say something just to spare someone’s feelings without meaning my words? I’m an emotionally constipated moron here! The hell do I care about going out of my way to spare someone’s petty feelings? Urgh, I feel the need to projectile vomit just at the thought!” Dudley snorted in amusement before grinning.

“Fair enough. You’re about as subtle at trying to spare someone’s feelings as a dragon in a china shop. Fine, I forgive you, this time. But next time I call dibs as part of the group you drag along on the next dangerous adventure or mission you have to go on. Deal?”

Harriet rolled her eye fondly before nodding and shaking his offered hand. “Deal. I’d say you’re long overdue to tag along on at least one of them anyhow. It gets a bit boring listening to Pansy and Hermione bitch the whole time about me being a ‘stupidly overly heroic Gryffindor in disguise’. At least according to Pansy that is. Hermione just slaps me across the head constantly for apparently being a trouble magnet.” That got her two slaps over the head from both girl’s who shot her equally offended looks.

“Excuse you! I do not ‘bitch’ with Granger here constantly. We politely and sophistically argue about the stupidity of chasing after possible dark lords who want to kill us.” Pansy argued.

Hermione raised a brow at that. “No, we pretty much _do_ bitch constantly. Harriet’s not wrong there for once.” 

Dudley was staring at her in slight horror. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Hermione Granger? She’d never swear so casually like that.” Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

“It’s been a very patience thinning two days Dudley, and thus I am currently lacking enough excuses to give anymore. So suck it up and shut your mouth.” Harriet looked at her wearily.

“You’ve spent way too much time around Ronald this year. He’s way too bad of an influence on you apparently.”

Pansy snickered. “For once it’s not Ron’s fault for Granger’s bad mood. Lets just say that, being one of the oldest girl’s in our year is already starting to bite her in the ass and leave it at that.” Harriet blinked in confusion at that before it hit her and she started cackling in amusement as a red faced Dudley quietly excused himself while muttering about ‘need to find Madam Pomfrey and see if she has any brain bleaching potions or can cast a bloody memory charm’.

“Sucks to be you Hermione! At least pain is being inflicted on someone other than me for once.” Her laughter was cut off by a pillow to the face from the irritated girl, which escalated into Harriet getting beat over the head by said pillow over and over again.

“Ah, I’m sorry for teasing you! I’m bloody sorry!”

“Not. Yet. You. Aren’t!” Hermione bit out in between swings of the pillow.

“Will someone get this bloody lunatic off of me before I’m left with a concussion and stuck in here for another night!”

Pansy snickered. “I don’t know Potter. It’s not very polite to tease a friend about something like this…”

“Parkinson if you don’t get her to stop bludgeoning me I’ll tell Snape you’re the reason he had to restock the common rooms supply of ink pots after you dumped them all on McLaggen!”

“You wouldn’t bloody  _ dare _ !” Harriet shot her a ‘try me’ look in between pillow swings from the still enraged bushy haired girl. Pansy groaned and rolled her eyes before pulling out her wand. “Fine.  _ Stupefy _ .” Harriet carefully peaked out from behind her raised arms before lowering them slowly at the sight of Hermione on the floor stunned.

“Took you bloody long enough! I tried bloody apologizing like the books said I should! Not my fault the idea of someone else being miserable from a bit of pain immediately brought thoughts of joy to my twisted mind. Probably from all the time I spent over the last year thinking of how much joy it would bring seeing my uncle in pain after he cost me a bloody eye. Literally.”

Pansy furrowed her brows in confusion. “Wait, what books said you should apologize after enraging a preteen girl going through cramps? Because that leads me to the follow up question of why the bloody hell you felt the need to read something like that in the first place?”

Harriet shook her head. “No, nothing quite that specific. My aunt said that I should probably avoid reading about anything involving puberty because it could prove ‘traumatizing’ apparently. I’ve got enough of that to deal with thanks. I read a couple of books back in my first year of primary school about making and interacting with friends, since I had so much trouble with it. I was worried I was doing something wrong or something that no one bothered to tell me about. One of the chapters was about how you should apparently ‘always try apologizing to an upset friend’ and I kinda defaulted to that I guess.”

Pansy frowned at that. “You know, the more I hear about the other kids at your old primary school, the more I want to track them all down and kick their asses off the astronomy tower for how they treated you and Dudley. No kid should be bullied by their entire grade like that.” Harriet shrugged lightly.

“I agree with you there, I hate bullies like hell. But I’m somewhat glad none of them bothered trying to be friends with me before. Just makes the fact that you and Hermione were my two first friends all the more worthwhile.” Pansy blushed slightly at that before shaking her head in exasperation.

“You’re a bloody sap, you know that right? And it’s making me sick to my stomach with all the sugary sweet feelings so please stop. My heart may actually start beating again and stop being a chunk of ice.” Harriet huffed.

“See, and now you’ve ruined the mood. I was opening up for a change and being all sentimental and crap, and you’ve gone and killed the mood. Lovely.”

Pansy was interrupted from replying with another likely snarky comment by the doors to the hospital wing swinging open and the tall form of Hagrid strided in with a pleased smile barely visible beneath his beard.

“Harriet! Dumbledore stopped down to tell me you were up and about finally. Asked me to come and fetch Fluffy since he’s assured that you’re alright. Bloody pup has taken quite the liking to you it seems. Haven’t seen anyone but myself be able to get him to shift sizes so easily like you did.” Fluffy glanced up from the game of tug of war he was in with Kevin over the invisibility cloak that Harriet suddenly realized was no longer wrapped around her arm like it had been. Kevin was losing spectacularly at said game, and she had to stifle a laugh when he flew backwards and onto his back with an annoyed huff when Fluffy suddenly let go up the cloak when the Bowtruckle gave a rather hard (for his tiny arms to give that is) tug. Fluffy barked happily at Hagrid and scurried over to flop himself down beside Harriet’s arm.

“What are you going to do with how now that there’s nothing for him to guard?” She asked and Harriet chuckled.

“Well that’s the thing. Cerberus’ tend to bond very strongly to a certain human that they see as being worthy. Fluffy here may have known me longer, but they never really bonded all that well to me on account of my age. Pup’s like him tend to prefer younger children as the person they bond to.” Pansy groaned at what he was hinting at even as Harriet stared at him in shock.

“Hagrid, please don’t tell me that a literal hellhound’s basically imprinted onto Harriet of all people?!” The man barked out a laugh and nodded.

“Afraid so. Very stubborn animals, Cerberus’. But Fluffy here seems to get along with you much better than you and Fang ever did. I remember you mentioned being timid around dogs for the most part, and nothing helps get over something like that then exposure to the thing you’re afraid of. Besides, Fluffy’s just a pup at this point, you tell him not to grow and he’ll happily stay like that for a good couple of years until he grows out of the mindset of a puppy. So what do you say, you up for taking him in? It’s that, or Dumbledore will probably make me send him to a private reserve that specializes in his kind.”

Harriet looked down at the three headed puppy and then back up at Hagrid before giving a determined nod of her head. “If you’re sure he’s bonded that much to me, then who am I to argue with his choice. Besides, I’ve read that Cerberus’ who have bonded with a human only to be separated from them spend the rest of their lives in a state of depression. I’m not about to force this cute little fella to spend his whole life like that. Plus Kevin seems to have struck up a friendship with Fluffy already, and I’m not dealing with his annoyed ass because I split up him and his new friend. Besides, Aunt Petunia was always saying we could use a guard dog, just a precaution.” Fluffy barked all three of his heads happily at her before panting excitedly.

“Did I just hear you right and that you’ve basically adopted a three headed dog?” Dudley asked as he walked back over to stand where they were gathered around her bed. “Who killed Hermione?” 

Pansy rolled her eyes before flicking her wand at the unconscious girl and muttering ‘ _ rennervate’ _ under her breath as Hermione gasped and shot up from the floor a few seconds later.

“Did you seriously  _ stun _ me?!” Pansy huffed and tucked her wand away.

“Well you were close to beating Harriet to death with a pillow, so I had to do something to calm you down. Also, I don’t recommend beating her with a pillow again since Fluffy’s apparently her new guard dog after it bonded to her according to Hagrid.”

Hermione stared at the small dog and back at Harriet several times in shock. “You  _ bonded _ with a bloody  _ Cerberus’ _ ?!”

“Apparently so. And he’s an adorable little one too. Yes you are!” Fluffy barked happily while soaking up the praise from his newly bonded human.

Pansy, Hermione, and Dudley all shared a look.

“Hogwarts will be a smoldering ruin before the year is over, won’t it?” Pansy scoffed and shook her head.

“It’s Harriet. We’ll be lucky to survive to the end of the bloody week.”

Hagrid soon left them to continue talking, with a brief explanation about how being a literal creature born from hellfire meant that Fluffy was strictly carnivorous and that he would talk to the house elves about sending up a few platters of steaks to the Slytherin table at meals for her to give him. 

Harriet frowned slightly in thought before squaring her shoulders for the conversation she was about to go through. “Guys, I think now's as good a time for you to know the truth. Dudley, this will probably be a bit confusing at first since you weren’t with us the night we went after Quirrell, but bare with me a bit.”

Pansy and Hermione looked at each other briefly before leaning forward slightly from their spots on the bed next to hers as Dudley nodded hesitantly in confusion.

“You mean about this ‘friend’ of yours that was apparently able to teleport past anti apparition wards like it was the easiest thing in the world. And apparently kicked the dark lord’s ass clean out of Hogwarts?” Pansy asked.

Harriet nodded before casting a privacy ward around the two beds. “In case anyone tries to listen in. I guess it all goes back to the night my parents were killed by Voldemort and he tried to kill me.” She ignored the slight flinch from Pansy at the name.

“Alright. We’re listening.”

“Since I already know Dudley wouldn’t know enough about wizarding culture to have heard of it before, I’m posing this question to you two.” She gestured between Hermione and Pansy who nodded in slight confusion. “Have either of you two heard of either the tale of the three brother’s or about the title ‘Master of Death’?”

“I’ve read the story of the brother’s as a kid, and the only time I’ve heard of that title was in regards to the three artifacts they were given by ‘Death’ according to it. But what does that have to do with the night your parents died?” Pansy questioned.

“Right. So the story goes that whoever wields the three hollows that Death gave to the brother’s becomes the master of Death himself. What the story doesn’t tell, is that Death can choose to name someone his master even if they haven’t gathered the hollows, so long as they’ve in some way defied him in a way that he found surprising or unique. That’s what happened to me.” All three of them gasped.

“Wait, are you saying that you’re-”

“The Master of Death? Yep. Ever since the night Voldemort tried to kill me ten years ago. The friend I called two nights ago was Death himself. He’s the one who banished Voldemort, and he reaped Quirrell’s soul since he was already dying from being possessed for so long. Death’s job is basically going around the world as he’s needed and reaping the souls of those who die so that they can be guided into their afterlife, whether heaven or hell. Both of which clearly exist, I mean Fluffy’s a bloody hellhound for crying out loud! But that’s a topic for another day, and Death doesn’t tell me much about that part of his job since it can get rather grisly regarding the hell part and apparently angel’s are a bunch of assholes who think they’re mightier than everyone because they get the shiny pearly white afterlife to guard over.”

“Okay...Brain is currently trying to process all that. Kinda overwhelming to think about considering we’re eleven, well Granger’s twelve but whatever, same difference.” Pansy muttered. “So Death picked you as his master ten years ago because you ‘cheated’ him when you-know-who cast the killing curse at you?” Harriet nodded.

“Pretty much. He said that there were a few other factors weighing in on his decision at the time, but that they were something I’d have to wait to find out until I’m a bit older and can handle knowing about them. I’ve learned that if Death says something has to wait, then I can bloody well employ a bit of patience until the time comes for me to know about it.”

“So does the Master of Death actually mean anything besides being friends with Death? Like, do you get any cool powers with the title or any job you have to do or something?”

Harriet shrugged. “All he’d say the last time I asked him about it was that there would be some ‘neat gimmicks’ after I finish growing up. Something about my magic having to settle properly first before the other stuff can manifest properly. And I’ll apparently be permitted to handle the occasional reaping myself when I’m older. For now though, and until we all graduate Hogwarts? It’s just a fancy title really that gives me access to Death when I need him for advice or anything.”

Pansy let out a relieved sigh at that. “Well that’s nice to know. I was worried you were going to end up having to kill all of us or something to ‘leave behind your mortal life’ and be immortal or some crazy shit like that.”

Harriet shook her head. “A Master of Death can choose to become immortal if they want to, but most never bother with it because it means watching the people you care about die as you never age. Death itself would be a much more merciful and less painful path to choose instead in the end.”

“Okay then. So my cousin’s best friend’s with Death. I think I can handle that. Sounds bloody cool honestly, what’s he like?” Dudley questioned with a big smile on his face. 

Harriet grinned. “I’ll introduce you all to him if you want. Death!” 

Suffice it to say, the moment Death flickered into view with a raised brow and unamused look on his face, her two friends and cousin had mixed reactions. Dudley looked close to passing out, Hermione shrieked in surprise at the embodiment of Death appearing out of thin air, and Pansy literally did pass out- her body falling back against the bed as her eyes rolled into the back of her head from the fright before fainting completely.

“Oops.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest plot arc for the year is done, and now it's just exam prep and Harriet spending time with her friends and causing Snape to develop more anxiety and grey hairs lol. I'll probably have one more chapter or so with the exams themselves and the revelation that Harriet prepping for exams is a force of chaos incarnate and that no one in Hogwarts is safe from her during these dangerous times before we delve into the summer before year 2 and then the second year itself. 
> 
> P.S. Who else is looking forward to seeing just how many insane pets that Harriet ends up collecting before seventh year is done and she's unleashed into the world at large? Because she's only just getting started, and chaos is fated to follow lol.


End file.
